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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332492">Mikerophone drabbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_human_boi/pseuds/one_human_boi'>one_human_boi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Five Nights at Freddy's</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>31 Days of Fanfiction Challenge, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, BOTH, Blood and Gore, Both is good, Child Murder, Creep William Afton | Dave Miller, Drabble Collection, Drinking to Cope, Eggs Benedict is Michael Afton, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Historical Inaccuracy, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Mafia AU, Major Character Injury, Mermaids, Mild Language, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Period-Typical Homophobia, Separation Anxiety, Short, The Author Regrets Everything, They both need a Hug, William Afton | Dave Miller being a Jerk, a whole lot of italics, also angst, charlie is a supportive sibling, i am writing this in quarantine wild right, michael afton is a mess, phone guy is also a mess, william afton bashing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:21:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_human_boi/pseuds/one_human_boi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just short drabbles about Mikerophone (Michael Afton x Phone guy).</p><p>I wrote this while my country is essentially on lockdown due to the coronavirus pandemic because there is way too little content for this ship in the fandom and because we all need some love in our lives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Afton/Phone Guy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Table of contents</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello and welcome to my domain!</p><p>Since my country is in quarantine right now (and will probably remain in quarantine for a while) I have decided to start a 31 day OTP writing challenge, mostly for the sake of my continued sanity, but also to remain productive while I’m being a hermit at home (I mean I’m a hermit at home anyhow but at least now I’m a productive one!).</p><p>Essentially this is a product of self-isolating myself and having way more time to write than usual. It also helped that there’s zero content for this ship in the fandom so I have been forced to make it myself.</p><p>To avoid any confusion about the timeline of these drabbles, as FNAF doesn’t exactly have a cohesive lore I could follow, here are a couple of things I want to clarify about the universe:<br/>-Michael Afton is the Older Brother from the FNAF 4 cutscenes. The Younger Brother’s name is Timothy.<br/>-Michael Afton is also Eggs Benedict.<br/>-The original Fredbear’s diner opened in the late 70s and closed following the bite of ‘83. The first Freddy Fazbear’s pizza location opened in 1980 and closed in 1985 with the first set of murders (the children, including Charlie, went on to possess the original four, Golden Freddy and the Puppet). The second location opened and closed in 1987, and then the last Freddy’s location opened in 1990 and closed in 1994. The sister location (Circus Baby’s) opened at the same time as the first Freddy Fazbears and was closed mere months afterwards when Elizabeth got scooped.<br/>-All in all, William Afton murdered six children (not including Elizabeth); the original four, Golden Freddy and the Puppet. Therefore, the funtime animatronics (excluding Baby) and the toys aren’t possessed (they’re just following their programming, which is where Phone guy gets the whole endoskeleton missing its suit from).<br/>-(Spoilers for The Fourth Closet!) Charlie is still a robot because I simply find the concept quite neat.<br/>-Phone guy’s name is Percy Scott Colter for no other reason than I like that name. If Phone guy’s name is ever revealed, I’ll update.<br/>Those are the main things, I think. If anything comes up later I’ll either update or just add it in the chapter where it comes up in.</p><p>Anyway, thank you for reading, thank you for getting through this long-ass note and also thank you for any constructive criticism that might pop up.</p><p>Stay safe everyone!</p><p>-From a distressed but happy Author</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Day 1</strong>: First meeting (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: To say that Michael hated the idea of coming back to his hometown of Oakdale to work at his father’s company was an understatement. A big one. Rather like comparing being gently poked to a sledgehammer to the face. However, he didn’t expect to be working under an assistant manager whose life goal seemed to be to smile so much that other people around him started to smile as well.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 2</strong>: Lazy morning (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Percy is a firm believer of getting up early to start the day off. Michael? Not so much.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 3</strong>: Sharing a smoothie (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: After a murderous shift (literally), sometimes you just need to sit down and share a smoothie with your boyfriend. Or just let him have the whole damn thing. That one’s also good.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Implied period typical homophobia</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 4</strong>: Hugging (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Silence was, as a rule, somewhat very rare when concerning a certain Percy Colter. He tended to solve problems with words, to express things through words, to, when faced with any unfamiliar situation, just, well, talk. Sometimes, however, talking just wasn’t enough.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Heavily implied self harm, heavily implied panic attack (nothing happens on-screen but it’s still very much there)</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 5</strong>: Mafia AU (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Michael is the heir of the most feared mafia boss in the state. Percy is a bartender at an illegal speakeasy which the Aftons sell alcohol too. They make it work.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Mild violence (namely being slammed against a wall), references to mafia-connected violence</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 6</strong>: Visiting each other in hospital (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Percy didn’t expect to survive being stuffed. When he did, it was the last thing on his mind to complain. He was happy to be alive and to see another day. Michael, however, didn’t take Percy’s close brush with death nearly as well.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Implied self harm, implied graphic injuries</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 7</strong>: Protecting each other (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: In which Percy’s the (assistant) manager of a children’s pizzeria, a kid doesn’t get the plushie he originally wanted but is actually not all that upset about it, a father has some anger management issues, and Michael isn’t taking any of this bullshit.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 8</strong>: Sneaking around (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: There’s something instinctively both thrilling and incredibly awkward about making out with a lover inside your parent’s home. Michael, rest assured, was not immune to feeling that way as well, but damn him if he didn’t have the slightest single urge to stop.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 9</strong>: Hanging out with friends (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: In which a cute little café date gets interrupted by an unexpected visitor, Michael panics, Charlie is awkward but supportive, and Percy is just oblivious to it all.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Implied internalized homophobia (really briefly)</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 10</strong>: Pirate AU (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: The Silver Hook wasn’t a ship with a big crew to speak of, but the crew it carried considered each other family. Charlie guessed that, going by that logic, that made their first mate her brother-in-law.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Implied period-typical homophobia</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 11</strong>: Halloween (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Michael is at home on Halloween to hand out candy because there’s no way he’s about to let his father do it. Percy is, as always, a little shit.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: William Afton being a creep (but not on-screen)</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 12</strong>: First kiss (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Percy stopped hiding himself from the truth at some point in his life after meeting Michael. Probably at a very very late point, but still; he came to the realization, that was for damn sure. Didn't mean he proceeded to do absolute jack shit about it.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Internalized homophobia, implied period-typical homophobia, self-loathing</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 13</strong>: Hurt/comfort (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: It’s been a bad week for everyone working in Freddy Fazbear's pizza and Percy isn’t taking it very well. At least Michael’s there. The fact that they’re both drunk off their asses doesn’t help.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Drinking, panic attacks, implied canon-typical violence (aka being shoved in a suit)</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 14</strong>: Formal (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Michael’s usual attire usually compromised of something one would lightly call ‘messy’ - he wasn’t exactly one to wear formal wear on a regular basis. To be honest, neither was Percy, but to hell with it if he wasn’t going to help his boyfriend.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 15</strong>: Soulmate AU (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Each person has a spirit animal that directly reflects their soulmate’s personality; Percy sometimes wishes that his own didn’t reflect Michael’s realism, especially not when the night shift is about to start.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 16</strong>: Sick fic (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Going into burnt-out flu was something Michael had seen a lot while in college. Enough that he knew how to deal with it. Now, if only he could get Percy to eat something, that would be great.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 17</strong>: Interacting with family members (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: William Afton was a lot of things. However, he was not stupid, and neither was he blind to the looks his son kept throwing at the Freddy Fazbear’s Oakland location’s assistant manager.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Implied/referenced suicide, heavily implied murder</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 18</strong>: Dark twist (done)</p><p>Summary: Percy was there when Michael woke up. He always was. He would come home from his shift and no matter how bad the night had gotten, no matter how exhausted he was, he would wait for him to wake at the foot of his bed. No matter what.</p><p>Warnings: Referenced character death</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 19</strong>: Holding hands (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Pizzeria employees are entitled to their break time, Michael is whipped, and Percy is, as always, a little shit.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 20</strong>: Hogwarts AU (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: If you wander around Hogwarts’ walls on a nice afternoon, you might come across a small curve in the castle’s wall, perfect from leaning back on while enjoying some semblance of privacy. Most days you’ll find it occupied by a very specific pair of students.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><strong>Day 21</strong>: Scar worship (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Percy’s recent very close brush with death had some consequences and he’s not exactly... okay with them. Meanwhile, Michael can’t wrap his head around why Percy’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans in the middle of summer.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Scars (obviously), implied/referenced canon-typical violence, insecurity</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 22</b>: Dealing with children (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Percy didn't know what exactly he was doing before he heard the small cry from under one of the tables in the party room. It didn't matter much, all things considered, because there was still the fact that there was very much definitely still a small cry from under one of the tables in the party room.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Implied/referenced past and present child abuse, mild injury</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 23</b>: Fighting (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Being subjected to one’s most deep-rooted fears tends to bring the worst out of people. Or, Percy has a nightmare. Neither of the boys take it well.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 24</b>: Pets (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: In which a cat is (badly) harmed, a Percy is nowhere to be found, and a Michael’s day gets very much ruined.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Graphic animal injury, animal abuse &amp; animal death, blood and gore, heavily implied kidnapping</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 25</b>: Mermaid AU (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Michael did, despite all odds, know quite a bit about mermaids, or at least he could reasonably claim to.<br/>That, however, didn't mean he completely failed to understand mermaids.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 26</b>: Spoiling each other (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: It wasn’t rare for Michael to be exhausted after working overtime. Neither was it rare for him to come home late every once in a while, barely able to stand. Luckily, Percy was prepared.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 27</b>: Jealousy (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Percy knew Michael was a fairly good looking man. He also knew they both presented themselves as single straight roommates to the public, for the sake of their combined safety. That didn’t make the tiny possessive snarl in the back of his mind whenever someone blatantly flirted with Michael in front of him any less present.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: References to period-typical homophobia</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 28</b>: One of them dies (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Michael had never figured he would be using his knowledge of the animatronics to take them apart one day. It wasn’t like dismantling animatronics was a particularly life-saving skill, after all. Somewhere, in a deep, distant part of his hysterical mind, he registered the irony.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Major character death, blood and gore, slightly graphic injuries, heavy angst</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 29</b>: Growing old together (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: In which Michael is near-damn blind but refuses to wear glasses, several dairy products are mistaken for cottage cheese, and Percy is having way too much fun.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Mild reference to homophobia</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 30</b>: Royalty AU (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: Michael is a prince and Percy is a royal spokesman (or messenger, depending on the day). They both find courts positively draining. They both also enjoy cuddling afterwards.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: Implied homophobia</p><p> </p><p><b>Day 31</b>: Getting married (done)</p><p><em>Summary</em>: If you asked them twenty years ago, neither of them would have even considered thinking about getting married. And yet, here they were.</p><p><em>Warnings</em>: None</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>To say that Michael hated the idea of coming back to his hometown of Oakdale to work at his father’s company was an understatement. A big one. Rather like comparing being gently poked to a sledgehammer to the face.<br/>However, he didn’t expect to be working under an assistant manager whose life goal seemed to be to smile so much that other people around him started to smile as well.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, this turned out longer than I expected.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To say that Michael hated the idea of coming back to his hometown of Oakdale to work at his father’s company was an understatement. A big one. Rather like comparing being gently poked to a sledgehammer to the face.</p><p>He didn’t hate the work he was assigned to do itself, to be clear. He was a college graduate of mechanical engineering and to be working with state of the art machinenry was honestly a dream come true, even if the macinery in question was a bunch of animatronics made primarily to sing happy songs for the little demons running around the pizzeria. The robots were complex enough that his fingers twitched in excitement when he was merely looking at their endoskeletons. They were creepy but bearable to look at, and it was fairly engaging to be working on each of them respectively, safe for <em>o<strike>ne</strike></em><strike> no don’t think about that don’t you dare this isn’t the time don’t-</strike>. Working with machines wasn’t a problem - it never was for him.</p><p>The fact that it was <em>his father’s</em> machines and <em>his father’s</em> company specifically - now <em>that</em> was a problem. One that could have been easily resolved with a firm no, for sure - but could it really have? What could he really do, once his father directly asked him to do something? He still lived in the man’s house, as much as he hated it. Saying no to the job once it had been offered to him was as much as an option as hitting Afton senior with a bat. Oh, he could hate the job all he wanted, but it was a fact that he had very little control over the situation.</p><p>Still. Didn’t make standing in the pizzeria’s restrooms, leaning on the sink and staring at his grimy, dirty self in the mirror after another exhausting shift of tinkering with spare animatronic parts any better.</p><p>The restaurant was just closing up. He could hear the last of the children leaving through the main entrance, their screaming lulling slightly as they slowly came down from their sugar rush. His shift was over, and that meant washing up and then going straight home to where his father was probably waiting for him, that cold, half-smile on his face, waiting to ask him what he did at work today only to tell him all the ways in which he had fucked up-</p><p>Michael’s fingers unconsciously tightened their grip on the edge of the sink.</p><p>Just a minute.</p><p>Just a minute more, and then he was washing up and leaving.</p><p>Just-</p><p>“I’m sorry, are you okay?”</p><p>He whipped his head to the side, startled, expecting a concerned dad or uncle or older brother of a child to meet his gaze, already thinking up an apology for standing there like a creep and probably dirtying up the already dirty sink even more.</p><p>Instead, he was met with- Well. He wasn’t sure who it was, but from that first, fatal glance, there were exactly four things he <em>could</em> be sure about.</p><p>Number one: judging by the uniform he wore underneath an unzipped jacket, the man was another employee, probably getting ready to leave just as he was. Purple shirt with Freddy’s logo on the breast pocket, black slacks, even the stupid black tie with little pizzas Michael vehemently refused to wear. It was much cleaner than his, all in all. The man was definitely not anyone who worked manual labour at the restaurant - he might have put him down as a waiter if he didn’t lack the apron the cooking staff were required to wear, or perhaps a guard if he didn’t look about as threatening as a kitten.</p><p>Number two: the man was blond. Specifically a very light blond, with a mop of curly, soft-looking hair and greyish-blue eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses.</p><p>Number three: the man was smaller than him, but considering his freakish height, that didn’t mean much. Plumper as well, but then again compared to Michael that didn’t mean much either.</p><p>And finally, number four: he was fairly certain he had never seen someone so closely resembling a golden retriever in his entire life.</p><p>He could see the man quickly sizing him up at the same time as he formed his four assumptions, and he had half a mind to feel a little embarrassed. Locked as he was in Parts and Service all day he didn’t interact with the other staff a whole lot (or at all, really), and now the first impression his coworker was going to have of him was an underslept, exhausted mess, looking like he was ready to collapse at any second.</p><p>(Weird. He didn’t particularly care what people thought about him, most of the time. Neither did he usually analyze people as soon as he saw them. He chalked it up to being tired.)</p><p>”I’m sorry for interrupting,” the stranger said, rubbing the back of his neck as he gave him a somewhat sheepish smile. “You just- uh, you don’t look particularly well.” Suddenly, the man paused for a second before his eyes widened and he launched into a string of words Michael could barely keep up with: “Not that you look bad! You look- I mean, you are good looking, not in a weird way, of course, I just thought you looked a little, uh, down, you know, kind of... disgruntled? Sad? Just, you know, generally not alright, I guess, uh, sorry for assuming, I just- I mean, <em>are</em> you okay?”</p><p>Michael blinked. After a whole day of being alone with empty animatronic heads, the whole experience felt less than being spoken to and more like being knocked over by a tornado. A fluffy, harmless-looking tornado, but a tornado nonetheless.</p><p>“Yeah,” he breathed. Luckily, he remembered how to speak before the silence that followed got awkward. “Yeah, yeah I am. I just needed a moment.”</p><p>The probably-not-a-guard seemed to consider the words for a second, as if contemplating whether or not he should ask about it further, before tilting his head slightly and saying: “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you new?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“A mechanic?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Is that why Bonnie’s arm isn’t twitching every time he plays the guitar anymore?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Well... that explains a lot.”</p><p>“Probably,” Michael said, feeling about as awkward as he probably sounded like.</p><p>The man stood there for a second in silence, something way too calculating in his greyish eyes to be missed. Michael felt the hair on the back of his neck raise instictively as he made eye contact with the stranger, his tongue suddenly completely dry in what felt like anticipation.</p><p>And then, the man smiled. And that smile. Full-on, dimples included, laugh lines not yet fully formed but definitely there, eye-crinkling smile that should by all means be creepy or insincere but ended up being the most genuine thing one could imagine.</p><p>And damn was that the brightest smile the mechanic had ever seen. </p><p>“Well then,” the stranger said as he stepped closer, extending his hand towards Michael. “Since we’re going to be working together, I assume, I’m Percy. Uh, nice to meet you?”</p><p>Michael looked at the offered hand and raised an eyebrow while blinking simultaneously. He turned his gaze to his own grimy fingers and stated the obvious: “My hands are dirty.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t mind!” Percy lifted the offered hand a little, wiggling his fingers additionaly for Michael to realize that there were dark splotches of ink on his pointer finger and thumb.</p><p>The mechanic persisted: ”It’s grime. It’s impossible to wash off.”</p><p>”So is ink. Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”</p><p>God, he looked so genuinely happy to be meeting him. And that smile. He couldn’t possibly say no to that smile. </p><p>He finally took the hand. “I’m Michael.” </p><p>Percy lighted up additionally, somehow, and shook his hand with no hesitation whatsoever, even though the mechanic was still standing there awkwardly and even though he could just feel the black grease rubbing off on the hand and even though he looked tired and sweaty and gross and even though he did nothing, absolutely nothing whatsoever to deserve this man who seemed to be so excited about meeting him.</p><p>”So, uh...” Michael drifted off, withdrawing his hand from the handshake once he realized it was probably lasting longer than a respectable handshake should. “You’re... also an employee?” </p><p>“Assistant manager,” Percy said, either oblivious to the way Michael immediately started kicking himself over the awkward question or just considerate enough not to point it out. Probably both. “Paperwork, phone calls from angry parents, covering shifts for people who call in, you know, that sort of thing.”</p><p>Michael hummed in acknowledgement and they fell into a comfortable silence for a beat. He watched as the man casually turned to wash his hands while still somehow tilted towards him to adress him when he spoke: “You know there’s a break room for employees next to the kitchen, right?”</p><p>He was slightly caught off guard by the statement. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he replied: “Uh, yeah?”</p><p>“You should come over sometime,” Percy said nonchalantly. “I mean, it’s a shame to waste the whole day cooped up tinkering with suits or whatever it is that you do. We could use some new faces, you know?”</p><p>Now, Michael wasn’t a sociable person by any means. During the past seven years he had become incredibly introverted and he had no intention of changing that. He just wasn’t the type to hang around a bunch of people <strike>not after what happened last time</strike>.</p><p>So Michael, self-proclaimed loner who had absolutely no intention of socializing with the staff whatsoever and was more than happy to be left alone for hours at a time, said: “Okay, sure.”</p><p>Percy dried his hands off and smiled yet again (he was smiling so much that Michael started to wonder whether or not that was just his default expression). The assistant manager glanced down at his watch before looking at him. “Okay, I better go if I want to catch my bus. Uh, see you around?”</p><p>Michael couldn’t help himself. He smiled as well. “Sure.”</p><p>Percy chuckled and turned to leave. “Nice meeting you!”</p><p>”Likewise.”</p><p>And then, with a flash of crinkling grey-blue eyes, the man was gone.</p><p>Michael stared after him for much longer than what he would be comfortable admitting before he finally washed up and left as well, picking up his jacket at the employee locker room and walking outside with the breeze of someone lost in their thoughts.</p><p>He was so distracted when he walked out to his car that he completely failed to notice a pair of blue-grey eyes, watching him from a nearby bus station.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Michael: You know, that’s where the trouble started<br/>Percy: :D<br/>Michael: That smile<br/>Michael: That goddamn smile<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Lazy morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Percy is a firm believer of getting up early to start the day off.<br/>Michael? Not so much.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello hello<br/>Welp here’s another one. I’m not really aiming to be super consistent with the length of these drabbles so this one is a little shorter.<br/>Btw to the one person who left kudos ngl I would literally die for you</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Mikey, I have to get up."</p><p>"No you don't."</p><p>"Mikey-"</p><p>"Shut up. It's Saturday, I get to keep you here for as long as I like."</p><p>"Twix needs to be given breakfast.”</p><p>”He can wait.”</p><p>“He’ll start meowing really loudly.”</p><p>”So?”</p><p>”<em>Really</em> loudly.”</p><p>”He’s his own creature, he can do what he wants.”</p><p>”The neighbors will start complaining! And I need to wash up the dishes we left yesterday. And-"</p><p>"Will you stop it?"</p><p>"Just- Michael this is ridiculous."</p><p>"No it's not."</p><p>"Let me go."</p><p>"No."</p><p>Percy sighed in defeat, which only proved to make the weight of the grown-ass man spread over his chest in the manner of a particularly grumpy house cat more crushing. It wasn't uncomfortable, per say; it just rendered his mobility next to none.</p><p>Which was probably the point.</p><p>He heard Twix meow from the kitchen. It wasn’t a particularly distressed meow. Not yet, at least; it was just that his cat had grown accustomed to being fed early during the weekends, as Percy was used to getting up when the sun was still rising, having nothing to stay in bed for. Safe for his sort-of-small-but-not-really caramel coloured tabby cat he lived alone ever since he moved out.</p><p>Except now he had a sleepy, decidedly not-a-morning-person-thank-you-very-much cuddly boyfriend, currently clinging to him as if Percy was a branch and Michael a distressed koala. Not that he was complaining, mind you, but getting up early was out of the question.</p><p>Twix meowed again. Percy groaned.</p><p>"Come on, Mikey."</p><p>"It's too early."</p><p>"It's nine in the morning."</p><p>"My point still stands."</p><p>Michael's voice had the same rough, grumbling quality as the sound of walnuts tumbling to the ground as he spoke from where he was comfortably nuzzled against the crook of his neck, lanky arms wrapped around the slight chub of his waist. Every once in a while, he pressed a sleepy kiss against his neck, which was in no way of doubt a manner of keeping him in bed.</p><p>Percy had to admit it was working.</p><p>"Just five more minutes,” Michael muttered, tightening his hold on him as Percy tried to gently pry him away.</p><p>After a brief, lazy struggle, the blond resigned with a dramatic sigh. Accepting his fate, he made himself comfortable and grumbled: “Fine. But five minutes only.“</p><p>"Mm. Sure."</p><p>If Percy could feel the mischievous smirk against his collarbone as Michael toppled them to the side, and if he could see the way the sleepy purple-blue eyes shone with self-satisfaction from behind those messy locks of hair stuck to his face and pillow, he didn't comment on it.</p><p>And if he returned the lazy smile with an expression pure content, no one was the wiser.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sharing a smoothie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After a murderous shift (literally), sometimes you just need to sit down and share a smoothie with your boyfriend.<br/>Or just let him have the whole damn thing. That one’s also good.<br/></p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wasn’t sure if they had smoothies in the 90s so I almost went to research it but then I remembered that this is FNAF’s timeline and if they had sentient animatronics in the 90s here then they will also have smoothies</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To most people, the sight of two men sharing a smoothie at the park was considered to be very suspicious.</p><p>It was considered to be even more off when the two were sitting very close to each other on the same bench in the early morning sun, barely sheltered by the leaves of an old birch tree, with their thighs pressed together and one's hand resting on the other's knee.</p><p>Adding to the general oddity of the scene was the fact that the two men were both dressed in the same work uniform any local might recognize as belonging to the creepy pizzeria chain that was allegedly cursed and known for missing persons' reports all over the place.</p><p>Finally and perhaps the most scandalous of all, the smoothie was a bright pink colour.</p><p>All in all, to any bystander or casual onlooker or bypasser or even anyone who has been alive for more than a day, it was fairly obvious that the two men were a couple. They weren’t even trying to hide it. The only way they could've been more obvious was if they stuck a siren to the tree and covered themselves in rainbow christmas lights that played a renedition of Love me tender by Elvis Presley.</p><p>Some would say that doing whatever the two were doing that made it so obvious was not only dangerous, it bordered on the fine edge of suicidal. Oakdale was a small town, after all. People talk. Word goes around and eventually comes round. They could very well get arrested if they were lucky, or beaten up if they weren’t.</p><p>However, one would also need to take a very important detail into account when making that statement.</p><p>It was six thirty in the morning.</p><p>On a Saturday, at that.</p><p>At that time, not even the most determined person around the pair had the time or energy to really take notice of any of the suspicious details and even less motivation to approach them about it. Additionally, there weren’t many people around the pair at all - the occasional distracted but very stubborn runner here, the rare exhausted worker there, the in-between old couple strolling around.</p><p>Many have speculated on what it would take to be hidden in plain sight. Turns out all you needed was a godless hour of the day, a birch tree obscuring you from view, and two absolutely wrecked pizzeria workers that found themselves unfortunate enough to be working the night shift.</p><p>After a murderous night (and, sadly, that wasn't a word play) neither of the pair cared enough to try and hide anything. It was mostly luck that provided them with the perfect time window for their sudden carelessness to go unnoticed. And also the birch tree, but mostly luck.</p><p>Ignorance is bliss, especially when one is trying to distance themselves from the events of the previous night by drinking a smoothie and trying to decipher what exactly it contains.</p><p>Or at least that’s what Michael did. Percy was content to just watch.</p><p>"I'm telling you, it's kiwi," he absent mindedly said to Percy. He nibbled on his bright yellow straw, his face scrunched up in concentratrion. It was a face Percy often found himself seeing on the mechanic, usually when he was absorbed into his tinkerings with the animatronics or when he was repairing the toaster or when his soap opera got to an unexpected twist. It was a face that looked, frankly speaking, absolutely adorable, but Percy knew better than to comment on it and decided to rather just nod agreeably as he watched the man take another sip.</p><p>"Yup, definitely kiwi." He gave a hopeful look which turned into a flash of smugness when his boyfriend gave an affirming nod.</p><p>"Why don't you just let me tell you what's in it?" Percy asked as he stirred his green straw around in the pink mixture. He normally enjoyed sweets in any shape or form and would be digging in eagerly by now, but smoothies were not only expensive, they were also Michael’s favourites and if he had to hold himself back in order to let his boyfriend have his guilty pleasure then so be it.</p><p>He would leap in front of a truck for this man. Giving up a good share of a smoothie they decided to buy impulsively was a piece of cake.</p><p>"It's not as interesting, obviously. And it's good exercise for my taste buds," Michael said, absent mindedly taking another sip.</p><p>Percy, still stirring the contents around with his barely used straw, tried to resist the urge to scoff and failed. "Considering that your diet last week consisted completely of cold pizza and water, it's a wonder they're still working."</p><p>"Oh, don't get cute with me. I haven't forgotten about what you used to eat before I came along," Michael shot back, draining the last bits of the smoothie from the bottom of the cup. "At least I have some semblance of what healthy food looks like."</p><p>"And yet, here we are, drinking a smoothie that probably has enough sugar to kill us both."</p><p>"Which you paid for."</p><p>"Which you ordered."</p><p>"Which you suggested."</p><p>"Which you implied I should."</p><p>The light-hearted bickering continued as they made their way through the park, the cup and two straws disposed of in a garbage bin along the way - one straw obviously chewed on, the other suspiciously clean - but the ghosts of the past, both recent and distant ones, didn't follow them as they went.</p><p>Ignorance is bliss alright, but for a couple of tired pizzeria employees at six thirty in the morning, ignorance was a straight up blessing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hugging</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Silence was, as a rule, somewhat very rare when concerning a certain Percy Colter. He tended to solve problems with words, to express things through words, to, when faced with any unfamiliar situation, just, well, talk.<br/>Sometimes, however, talking just wasn’t enough.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning; this one gets a bit angsty (aka includes self harm in the form of self-scratching and a heavily implied panic attack). Not a lot, but it definitely does, because if there’s one cohesive thing about the entirety of FNAF lore it’s that Michael Afton has been through some shit.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Silence was, as a rule, somewhat very rare when concerning a certain Percy Colter. It always had been. Even as a tiny little bugger he didn’t grind his parents’ nerves by being hyperactive or messy or even just mischievous - he did it simply by talking about anything and everything under the sun.</p><p>It just made perfect, crystal clear sense to him.</p><p>If he was able to express himself through words, why shouldn’t he? He had so many thoughts about so many things, it was a shame not to share them with others, right? His parents always taught him that sharing was caring, and what was speaking his mind if not sharing? Besides, he could do so much with his words - he could ask people what was wrong, he could comfort people, he could talk to them and he could let them talk with him, he could help them and they could help him back. Talking just solved so much.</p><p>It didn’t take long for him to realize that not everyone saw it that way.</p><p>As he grew older, he grew out of it. At least a little, that was. The more he matured, the more aware he became of the fact that people didn’t exactly like a person that talked excessively, or one that saw nothing wrong with others talking excessively as well. </p><p>So he abandoned the habit. It made him ultimately happier, after all, so why shouldn’t he have?</p><p>However, some thing stayed behind.</p><p>Some called it blabbering. Others yapping. Michael, for one, called it being in “chatty bitch mode”.</p><p>When faced with anything Percy felt he could solve - or, what was even moreintriguing, something he <em>couldn’t</em> solve - his go-to move was to just start talking immediately. Problems just seemed to be smaller when he talked about them, especially at length - awkward silences could be filled out, uncomfortable situations could be made to feel less uncomfortable, problems became easier to tackle, animatronic induced states of panic could be turned into life-saving advice for the new guard.</p><p>It was just how Percy was. He tended to solve problems with words, to express things through words, to, when faced with any unfamiliar situation, just, well, talk.</p><p>Sometimes, however, talking just wasn’t enough.</p><p>He didn’t mean the situation to occur. Of course he didn’t. He didn’t plan on missing his first bus home from the night shift - he was just too exhausted to pay attention at the time, and arrived at the station right when the driver pulled away. It wasn’t exactly a big problem, even though he was nearly falling asleep while walking - but as the next bus was to arrive in an hour, he decided to just go to his apartment on foot and get some fresh air and perhaps clear his mind after the clusterfuck that was a night at Freddy’s.</p><p>What he didn’t think about was that he was ultimately home one hour later than usual.</p><p>Or that Michael was spending the night.</p><p>Or that Michael had reoccuring nightmares.</p><p>He didn’t even make it to the living room before he was tackled into an embrace that nearly sent him sprawling across the floor. He didn’t even notice when Twix trotted into the hall looking for customary greeting pets because he was too distracted by an armful of shivering, visibly-not-alright brunette.</p><p>He tried asking what was wrong, of course - he started talking, tried to tackle the problem and comfort his boyfriend, until all he heard in response to his increasing blabber was a sharp, disorted inhale that definitely wasn’t a regular draw of breath.</p><p>It took him a minute to realize that Michael was sobbing into his shoulder.</p><p>It took him another to realize that he was only wearing his boxers and an old t-shirt, and that his hair was messy and all over the place, and that the palms clutching his forearms were bleeding from still fresh distinctly nail-shaped wounds, and that he seemed to be slightly out of it.</p><p>By the time he put the pieces together, all he could do was wrap his arms around Michael’s back, pulling him into a tight hug, which only seemed to make the taller of the two sob harder.</p><p>Yes, they <em>were</em> going to talk about this.</p><p>First, they were going to go to the bathroom and take a bottle of disinfectant and some brightly coloured bandaids from the mirror cabinet. Then they were going to dress the scratches before the skin around them got too inflamed and the wounds infected. Then, Percy was going to make popcorn, and Michael was going to put on a recording of his soap opera.</p><p>However, then and only then, while they watched Vlad and Clara break up for the hundreth time, they will talk about it at <em>length</em>. It was how problems were meant to be solved, in Percy’s world - by talking and listening in return, and he was going to make Michael talk about whatever had him so terrified that his “nervous tick” - Michael’s words, not his - got so obviously out of control.</p><p>And they will talk about it, and Michael will tell Percy how he had a nightmare and woke up to an empty apartment, of how he saw that Percy was late from his shift, and how he drew all the worst possible conclusions and how he reacted in the worst possible way. They will talk about how they should really get something for Michael to fidget with when he got this bad, about how Percy should really quit his job, about how he was putting himself in lethal danger for what amounted to zero payoff, about how this was never going to happen again because Percy will promise to quit with the following week, and then they will talk about what they were going to have for breakfast while munching on cold popcorn.</p><p>They will.</p><p>But in that moment, right there, when everything Percy had screamed at him to start blabbering to calm the situation, he was quiet, and all he did was hug Michael tighter.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m going to be updating some tags after posting this chapter because I don’t want someone to get uncomfortable while reading this. Also not gonna lie I self-projected a bit with the whole talking-excessively-bad thing at the beginning so I really hope I didn’t drag it out too much.<br/>That aside, I just want to thank the four additional people who left kudos here like just thank y’all so much<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Mafia AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Michael is the heir of the most feared mafia boss in the state. Percy is a bartender at an illegal speakeasy which the Aftons sell alcohol too.<br/>They make it work.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Before we get into anything, happy April fools folks!<br/>And yes, I know I didn’t necessarily need to make this take place in the 1920s but I just couldn’t resist.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I believe that's all?"</p><p>"Mhm."</p><p>The blond man before him investigated the crates with the critical eye of someone who has been in the business of buying things from the black market for way too long but simultaneously still wasn't sure whether or not the content of the boxes was acceptable from just a glance. Michael didn't particularly mind. As long as he was paid, he was happy.</p><p>It was also nice to observe the bartender a little, just a little, when he was quietly focused on something. His eyes got a delightful look to them that he found quite endearing.</p><p>A tense silence settled over the dark alley as the blond stood from where he was crouched next to the crates and back into the headlights of a pickup truck behind them, illuminating the pitch black night to a degree where both parties could see each other. If they were truly themselves, Michael would've teased him about the silence and how it should be considered a rarity around him, and the blond would huff and reply in his usual bitchy way before they would go on to fall into banter that was less actually arguing and more just flirting.</p><p>However, it was quite apparent to both men that the driver of the pickup truck was quite obviously watching them through the windshield, and that he wouldn't keep quiet about any interaction he observed.</p><p>Needless to say, neither of them wanted anyone finding out about their - partnership? relationship? fuck-buddy-ship? - whatever it was that they had. Especially not the most feared crime boss in the state.</p><p>Especially not when that crime boss was Michael's father.</p><p>"This is... a lot," the blond stated, looking up to Michael from behind those visibly dirty glasses as if afraid to question it but too suspicious to contain himself.</p><p>"I suppose it is."</p><p>"And why, pray tell, are you offering <em>this</em> much to <em>this</em> speakeasy?"</p><p>Michael raised a delicate eyebrow. "I thought Fazbear's was the only rum-running place in these parts."</p><p>"As much as I know of, we are. But this is still more than the usual," the bartender stated, clasping his hand behind his back and looking at him defiantly. Michael resisted the urge to smirk.</p><p>"Consider it a show of good faith, then,” he said, somewhat lazily leaning back on the heels of his polished leather shoes. That was the main perk of being sent to deliver five crates of illegal alcohol and intimidate a man who he just so happened to be romantically involved with - at least he could wear his so-sharp-it’ll-cut-you suit in front of Percy.</p><p>It wasn’t being a show-off, surely, if no one knew it wasn’t meant to terrify the other man.</p><p>He was brought from his musings when the blond scowled visibly. "Since when does good faith exist in this business?"</p><p>"Do you really want to question it, <em>darling</em>?”</p><p>Percy stiffened for a moment. Michael smiled innocently.</p><p>"I ain’t no <em>darling</em>,” the blond rebutted with offense so real it should’ve won an award. “I’m just wondering whether or not you lot are trying to buy us into refusing other offers.”</p><p>“And if we are? There’s nothing wrong with being nice every once in a while.”</p><p>“That’s rich, coming from you.”</p><p>“Don’t be like that, darling, you’re hurting my feelings.”</p><p>Most of the time, Michael hated being his father’s enforcer. It meant subjecting people, including completely innocent ones, to violence and suffering that no market crash could justify. It meant not being able to have a life he would want to have. It also meant having to do whatever he was ordered to do, no matter his opinion or feelings.</p><p>However, this thing right here? This stage play of a mafia heir using the powerplay of his position to terrify a scared but still defiant outsider, engaging in banter that walked the fine edge of insults just barely?</p><p>He fucking <em>loved</em> this.</p><p>Percy bristled and to an untrained eye the malice in his expression would seem genuine, but Michael knew him, and he knew the mischievous, amused shine in his eyes.</p><p>“So?” he asked, extending an arm in a mockery of a maiden offering her hand for a dance. “Are you going to pay for the booze or are we just going to stand here and make my poor driver wait all night?”</p><p>Percy scowled, but reached into his pocket to pull out a stack of green bills tied with a rubber band, handing it over to the offered palm. </p><p>“Counted?” Michael asked as he ran his fingers over the edge of the bundle.</p><p>“Of course. We’re not animals.”</p><p>“Splendid,” Michael said as he pocketed the stack, taking a theatrical bow. “I’ll be on my way then, darling.”</p><p>“You might as well get you ass out of here, yes.”</p><p>The mafia heir went completely still, dramatically quieting his voice until it was only a threatening murmur: "Oh really?” He stepped - no, he sauntered - foward to close the distance between the two of them.</p><p>Percy - bless his observant, over-dramatic self - seemed to go ashen for a split second before his expression of defiance reformed, now seeming more than a a mask to cover up the way he visibly recoiled away from Michael. "What? Is that really the worst thing people tell a mafia snake like you?”</p><p>A pair of violet-blue eyes narrowed. They were quite important, those eyes - as there were currently only two people in this part of the state who possessed them, they were not only remarkable, but also quite easily linked back to an organization that was pretty well-known around these parts. They spelled danger, those eyes, especially when narrowed suspiciously like that, and you did <em>not</em> want any of the two people who carried them to be suspicious of you, namely because there was quite a big chance that you were going to end up at the bottom of a river.</p><p>Percy knew this alright.</p><p>Just as Michael Afton knew that if it were anyone else, he might've actually gone through the threats forming in his throat.</p><p>And just as both of them knew that in reality, harming the man was the very last thing Michael would ever do, and that Percy was probably going to get an apology just for the way he was talked to during this interaction, even though it was in front of Michael’s father’s lackey and even though it was completely justifiable by its necessity.</p><p>And just as as soon as one of those purple eyes gave a subtle wink and twitched towards the damp alley wall behind them, Percy immediately knew to brace himself.</p><p>Michael shot fowards like a cobra who decided to strike when its prey least expected it, hooking his fingers underneath the smaller man’s suspenders and giving him no time to react before he slammed him against the wall. Percy gave a shocked gasp of pain when his head impacted against the brick behind him and Michael swallowed the urge to apologize immediately.</p><p>He heard a loud snort from inside the pickup truck and smirked. Good.</p><p>“Do you have a problem with being in our family's good graces, <em>darling</em>?” Michael muttered, opting to put on his ‘I’m-the-heir-of-the-strongest-mafia-family-around-here-you-ain’t-got-nothing-on-me’ face for the effect of it as he tightened his grip on Percy. “Because I can arrange something to change that quite easily, I assure you."</p><p>The bartender faltered as he seemed to consider trying to respond, so Michael interrupted him before he could even begin by leaning closer to the man’s ear.</p><p>To the driver of the pickup truck, this would seem like he was threatening the man by means of invading his personal space. Nothing special, by all means, and nothing worth mentioning anywhere.</p><p>However, to Michael, this meant his lips couldn’t be read, and it meant that he could whisper: “Dad’s leaving town on Friday. Some gangs are acting up in the south and he’s gonna be gone for at least a week. The usual spot on Saturday, sounds good?”</p><p>As he predicted, the bartender immediately tensed upon hearing those words - but not for the reasons one would think were relevant. When he spoke, he did so in a quiet, hissing manner that could not by any means be deciphered by anyone more than twenty centimetres away, especially not with the characteristic tone of bitchiness that creeped in: "You know, you could've just told me that in our normal way."</p><p>Michael smirked. "And where would be the fun in that?" he asked before he let go and stepped away.</p><p>Percy made a show of stumbling after the support provided by Michael’s hands was gone and muttering something under his breath. The Afton heir smiled and asked: “What was that, darling?”</p><p>A beat of silence passed between them before Percy seemed to relent. “Have a good one,” he hissed, cluthing his side as if hurt, the dramatic bastard. He could’ve made it big in commedia dell’arte theatre if he didn’t turn to bootlegging.</p><p>“Good boy,” Michael purred, just to see that flash of something that was <em>definitely</em> not fear on the bartender’s face before he turned around and sauntered towards the pickup truck, sliding in through the passenger side. “Let’s go,” he said, adressing the driver, who started the car in silence.</p><p>He felt Percy’s eyes on him the entire time as they pulled away from the alley and into the night. He knew they were there because he knew immediately that they were gone when they turned onto the main road.</p><p>“A special type of bugger, tha’ one,” the driver suddenly spoke, managing to draw Michael’s attention even from where he was lost in his thoughts.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Just sayin’.” The ginger’s golden eyes were on the road, but he seemed determined to get that thought out for some reason or another. “Sayin’ shit back ta yer local crime boss. Takes a special kind of crazy, doesn’ it?”</p><p>Michael smirked. “You have no idea.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did I really just make Foxy the getaway driver just because he’s fAsT? Of course I did. What kind of person do you think I am?<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Visiting each other in hospital</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Percy didn’t expect to survive being stuffed. When he did, it was the last thing on his mind to complain. He was happy to be alive and to see another day.<br/>Michael, however, didn’t take Percy’s close brush with death nearly as well.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well then lads today we’re going to be doing ‘let’s make another poor bastard suffer considerably before some agressive cuddles commence‘, or, as I like to call it, hurt/comfort<br/>Also I am 100% bullshitting through how hospitals work I am so sorry</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Excuse me, sir?"</p><p>Percy stirred in his bed, slowly coming back to the land of the living. He blearily opened his eyes a crack and hissed before closing them again.</p><p>Whoever thought that having hospitals be so goddamn white was a good idea should be burning in hell.</p><p>"I'm so sorry to wake you sir-"</p><p>"No no, it's alright," Percy croaked as he tried to open his eyes again, this time succeeding. It took him a minute to reach his hand - the one that wasn't broken and in a cast - to the small bedside table for his glasses, and another to put them on, but he managed. Since they were his spare pair they didn't fit on his face as well as his usual ones, but considering that those were very much shattered by Foxy stepping on them when he was dragged out of the office he couldn't exactly complain.</p><p>He was faced with a bright hosptial room. The weather outside seemed to have calmed down a bit since the first time when he awakened, terrified and very much surprised to find himself alive and not stuffed in an animatronic suit albeit generously bruised and with too many broken bones to be comfortable admitting. His eyes landed on the wall clock opposite his bed.</p><p>"How long was I out?"</p><p>"Only eight hours, sir. You fell asleep soon after your sister left."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>Well. Better than being in three-day coma for sure.</p><p>He tried his best to sit up to at least some extent, finally facing the nurse next to his bed with a bit more bravery than before. They stared at each other for a moment before she spoke again: "Sir, you have a visitor."</p><p>Percy gave a faint chuckle and winced when his fractured ribs retaliated. "Again? I swear, I haven't seen my family since last Christmas and then suddenly they're all here all the tim-"</p><p>"It's not your family, sir."</p><p>Now that caught his attention. He shifted in his bed to look directly at the woman, arching an eyebrow.</p><p>"We weren't allowed to let him in before, since he isn't an emergency contact nor a family member, but he's been adamant to see you, he said he's your friend?" she asked, tone neutral but still betraying a small surge of protectiveness over one's patient. Percy couldn't help but appreciate that, in some distant corner of his mind, but that wasn’t what he was focused on at the moment.</p><p>"What did you say his name was?" he asked, more for show than anything else. He knew already, and he could already feel a bubble of warmth rising in his chest.</p><p>"Uh, I think he said his name was..." She checked the sheet of paper she was carrying. "Michael? Michael Afton?"</p><p>Percy couldn't help it - his face broke into the biggest smile since he was brought into the hospital. "Please, let him in."</p><p>"Sir, you have to authorize his access first-"</p><p>"Can it wait?"</p><p>"It's against the rules-"</p><p>"Please."</p><p>"Sir-"</p><p>"Visiting time is halfway over," he said, looking up at the clock again before he turned his gaze fully onto the woman, a tone of a plea creeping into his voice. "Please. I'll fill out everything afterwards."</p><p>The nurse stood still for a moment, seemingly arguing with herself before she eventually relented. "I'm going to go get him."</p><p>Percy smiled. "Thank you."</p><p>She gave him a brittle twitch of her lips before she turned and walked out of the room.</p><p>Percy closed his eyes for a second and exhaled deeply. It was quiet in the room now, safe for the faint sound of talking coming from the hallway. He couldn't see any silhouettes sprinting by through the foggy glass on the door like he sometimes did, seeming that his room was directly next to the emergency ward, but it helped him feel a little less alone as he waited nevertheless.</p><p>Hospitals were never quiet. In the entirety of his four-day stay (three quarters of which he spent unconscious), no matter how late and however calm it was, there would always be some sort of background noise - whirring of machines, dripping of his infusion, shouts from distressed nurses. There was always something there to help him feel as if not completely cut off from the world, like he was just a little ways to the side.</p><p>Still. For a moment, as he waited in anticipation, he felt so horribly <em>alone</em>.</p><p>Not because he was physically stranded, but because he knew the person he loved more than anything in the world was just so close to him, and he could do nothing but wait and wonder.</p><p><em>How is he doing? Probably not alright, considering everything, but just how not alright are we talking about here? She said he's been waiting to be let in, but for how long? Why did Eve never mention him if he was here? Or mom? Or dad? Did he not know who they were? No, Eve and I have the same face, he probably figured it out, he's too observant not to, but that means he either avoided them or wasn't around, and that would be okay if it didn't mean that he might've actually waited here and got rejected because I didn't know he was there. He already has issues with people around him getting hurt - oh god, that's right, he has </em>gigantic<em> issues with that, oh shit oh shit oh shit, he must be out of his fucking </em>mind<em>, he already lost so much and I knew it was dangerous and I kept going back anyway, oh shit what am I supposed to say to that? Sorry?!</em></p><p>The door creaked on its hinges.</p><p>Percy's eyes snapped back open as he turned to face the figure that entered the room with quick steps, and immediately his heart almost broke.</p><p>By god, Michael was a <em>mess</em>.</p><p>His long, brown hair was put into a ponytail so disorderly it barely deserved the title of one, making a very poor effort of disguising the fact that the hair was greasier than Freddy Fazbear’s pizza. His eyes were bloodshot and tired, ringed with eyeshadows almost as purple as the irises themselves. He was sporting some stubble, even though he had once spent half an hour lecturing Percy about how stubble was the literal spawn of Satan. His clothes were wrinkled from slouching somewhere too long, and there were moon-shaped scars littering his palms that made Percy want to wither.</p><p>Michael's hands were doing so <em>well</em>. The last time he saw him, they have completely healed from where they have been scratched over the many of his anxious episodes, and now they looked like they were attacked by a feral cat.</p><p>The nurse, oblivious to the turmoil bubbling below the expression on Percy’s face, neutrally said: “I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be on call if you need anything.”</p><p>And then she was gone, and all he was left with was the wreck of a man he had indirectly made of his boyfriend.</p><p>Guilt threatened to overwhelm him as he looked Michael in the face, forcing his tongue to work: "Mike-"</p><p>"Do you have any idea what state I found you in?" Michael cut him off, and Percy drew in a sharp breath.</p><p>He knew someone had to have called an ambulance for him to have survived. It was a logical conclusion to come to, all things considered. However, he thought it was the dayshift janitor coming to open the place up, or a maintenance worker, or even the pizzeria's manager who found him.</p><p>He didn't think it was-</p><p>"Michael, I'm-"</p><p>"Do you have any idea just how lucky you were that I found you at <em>all</em>?"</p><p>Michael's voice was quiet, almost a whisper - his eyes, however, still tired and bloodshot, were absolutely <em>burning</em>.</p><p>
  <em>Oh shit.</em>
</p><p>He knew Michael would be angry. It was understandable, really, to be angry when one almost dies while promising the other person that he won't. He knew that he should expect rage, that he should expect worry, and that he should've been prepared. He thought he <em>was</em>, really.</p><p>Now, faced with a neutral, tired expression, a quiet voice that somehow burnt as if Michael had shouted at him, and the realization that his boyfriend had found him on the brink of death, he realized he was just about as prepared as if he had just woken up.</p><p>"Mikey-"</p><p>"<em>Shut it</em>," the brunette hissed. He didn't raise his voice - he didn't need to. "You were unconscious and lying in a pool of your <em>own</em> <em>motherfucking</em> <em>blood</em>. You were half-way stuffed, it's a miracle they didn't finish up and crush you completely. I couldn't remove the suit because that thing was the only thing keeping your wounds together so that you didn't bleed out. You lost a <em>liter of</em> <em>blood</em>," Michael said, more and more furious with each syllable until Percy was almost cowering back into the pillows under his gaze.</p><p>"Michael, I'm sorry-"</p><p>"The paramedics were almost sure you wouldn't make it."</p><p>
  <em>Oh shit. Oh fuck.</em>
</p><p>Percy knew this, of course. His doctor had told him as such when he first woke up - it was sheer luck that he made it to live another day.</p><p>But Michael-</p><p>Michael thought Percy was going to die.</p><p>Michael, the beautiful, caring creature that had been hurt by the world so repeatedly and so many times, thought that Percy, the one person who had promised to never leave him alone, was going to die.</p><p>"You were in operation for hours." Michael's voice was suddenly cracking, wavering with what Percy knew were tears and that broke his heart once again. "No one wanted to tell me anything and I- at some point, they just started shouting and- I thought-"</p><p>"Michael..."</p><p>"You <em>bastard</em>," the brunette choked out, glaring at him with shining eyes.</p><p>"Mike, I swear, I didn't-"</p><p>And that was when the dam broke.</p><p>"You complete and utter <em>bastard</em>!" Michael screamed suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet room like a razor blade and making Percy recoil, but he seemed like he was beyond caring. "I thought you were <em>dead</em>! For what?! For a company that wanted you under for <em>years</em> now?! For the fucker who'll replace you and probably die <em>anyway</em>?! For your motherfucking <em>pride</em>?! WHY DID YOU GO BACK, YOU FUCKING <em>ASSHOLE</em>, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO AND PLAY MARTYR LIKE YOU <em>ALWAYS</em> FUCKING <em>DO</em>, WHY DON'T YOU THINK ABOUT YOURSELF FOR A <em>GODDAMN SECOND</em> OF YOUR LIFE, WHY-" his voice suddenly cracked as tears started streaming down his face, ones that seemed to have been held back for way too long and that hurt Percy so much more than any of the broken bones did. "Why did you- why the fuck did you think it was okay to just go back to that hellhole? Why didn't I <em>stop</em> you? Why did I leave you to die, why do I <em>always</em> let people <em>die</em>-"</p><p>After that, Michael's words stopped making sense, because he was sobbing too much to string together a coherent sentence.</p><p>Percy felt as if the animatronics hadn't crushed his bones and instead decided to rip his heart out.</p><p>"Michael," Percy whispered. He realized his voice was choked as well a little bit too late to stop talking. "Michael, I'm so sorry."</p><p>Next thing he knew, Michael was sitting on the bed, leaning over his half-sitting form, clutching him as if a drowning sailor holding onto a rope thrown in the stormy sea to pull him back on deck. Percy winced quietly when his ribs vehemently protested against the action and the grip loosened, only for the hands to desperately bury themselves in his hair and around his waist as a face pressed itself up against the crook of his neck, stubble tickling his skin and tears soaking through his hospital nightshirt. It was as if Michael was trying to prevent him from moving away even though he was incapable of it.</p><p>As if he was afraid that Percy was going to slip through his fingers if he didn’t hold him close.</p><p>“You <em>asshole</em>."</p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>"You- you utter <em>bastard</em>."</p><p>"I'm <em>so</em> sorry."</p><p>He lifted his unbroken arm to run his fingers through the brunette’s hair, making Michael’s breath hitch into a soul-wrenching sob as he leaned into the touch, seemingly desperate for any contact at all that proved that Percy was alright, that he was okay and alive and that Michael wasn’t alone and won’t ever be alone again.</p><p>They stayed like that for a very long time. The clouds outside began to clear up, and a single ray of sunshine creeped onto the bed to illuminate the pair.</p><p>“I hate you.”</p><p>“That’s fair.”</p><p>“If you do that again, I’ll drag myself to Heaven just to kill you again.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“God, I-“ Michael suddenly looked up at him. His eyes were so bloodshot that they were almost red, and his hair was ruffled and dishevelled and he was a complete and utter wreck, and still, he was just so beautiful that Percy wanted to start crying as well. “I though I’d never see you again.”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>“I wanted to go burn down that fucking place. I wanted to just take an axe and hack those cursed things <em>apart</em> for what they did.”</p><p>“Mike-“</p><p>“I still do.”</p><p>“Michael, please don’t go around hacking animatronics to bits.”</p><p>The brunette gave a wet chuckle as he buried himself back into Percy’s shirt. He shuddered when the fingers in his hair ran down to the short, soft hairs of his neck.</p><p>“I missed you so much.”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>“Never leave me again.”</p><p>“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”</p><p>Things were not okay. They weren’t, at least not yet. Percy was still hurt, and Michael was hurt just as bad as a side-effect, and there were many talks to go through between the two of them and nightmares to wake up from and tears to cry.</p><p>But in that second, as they held each other close under the scrunity of sunlight peeking through the clouds, everything was in its proper place.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is a considerably happier ending than what I consider “canon” in my AU (where I kill Percy off and then Michael spirals so hard he accepts the gig at Circus Baby’s and gets scooped a few days later so he doesn’t even come to the funeral because Ennard’s wearing his skin) but I wanted some fluff to write, ya know?<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Protecting each other</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Percy’s the (assistant) manager of a children’s pizzeria, a kid doesn’t get the plushie he originally wanted but is actually not all that upset about it, a father has some anger management issues, and Michael isn’t taking any of this bullshit.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a heads up I completely and utterly abuse italics in this (I should probably tag that)<br/>Also, to all the new people who left kudos/subscribed/commented, welcome to the list of people who this author would take a bullet for thank y’all so much<br/>Now to the drabble</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being an assistant manager can be tough. Sometimes tougher than being the actual manager (but only on particularly crowded days when the manager calls in sick and you're left with a heap of paperwork to deal with completely on your own), sometimes more exhausting than running a marathon (or, if we're on the subject of running, chasing after a hyper toddler who had somehow gotten into his head that taking his pants off in the middle of a crowded restaurant and running around in his underwear was a rather splendid idea), sometimes even almost as nerve-grinding as being on balloon animal duty (but only almost, because let's face it nothing was more nerve-grinding than being on balloon animal duty).</p><p>However, if you asked Percy, the worst thing that came with the position weren't the hyper kids or the paperwork or even the balloon animals.</p><p>It was the parents.</p><p>If you were a regular worker dealing with a particularly displeased parent crying wolf about how their little angel deserved a free ice cream because it was her birthday, you had a way out - you could go get the manager. The manager, however, couldn't go get the manager, unfortunately enough, especially when the main manager was absent from shift and when the employee that came to fetch you looked like she was about to burst into tears.</p><p>Still. If he were asked if there was one part of the job he hated, you could bet that Percy would immediately point to the night shift first, and follow with his current situation as a very close second.</p><p>"What do you <em>mean</em> you're all out?! You're supposed to have them on stock! Where else are people going to buy them if not here?!"</p><p>"Ma'am, would you please listen to me-"</p><p>"Don't you <em>dare</em> talk down to my wife like that!"</p><p>"I'm not-"</p><p>"This is unbelievable. I should report you to <em>your</em> manager, ruining a child's birthday party like this, today is his special day and- Look! Now you made him <em>cry</em> because you lot are uncapable of restocking!"</p><p>Percy wanted to point out that the eight-year-old was completely fine before his father started screaming, albeit a bit disappointed, but he had a distinct feeling he wasn't going to get anywhere if he did, so he just sighed deeply. "Sir, I am truly sorry, but we are completely out of Foxy plushies at the moment. I know it's your son's birthday, but I simply can't help you. I apologize for the inconvenience."</p><p>"<em>Inconvenience</em>?!"</p><p>"Dad, <em>please</em>, it's- it's okay, I'm-" the child managed to get out between sobs, looking increasingly ashamed even as his mother shushed him. "They still have-have Bonnie, I'm o-okay-"</p><p>"Don't worry, sweetheart," his mother cooed while stroking the kid's hair in an attempt to calm him down. "It's not your fault, we're going to sort this out." She shot Percy a death glare so poisonous he actually considered comparing it to Chica's stare through the East Hall window. The child just looked at his friends, awkwardly milling around in the party room and trying not to look over, and sobbed again in embarrassment.</p><p>God, Percy felt so bad for the kid. It wasn't his fault his parents were more offended about not being able to get his favorite character plushie than he was.</p><p>"Now I'm only going to say this once, buddy," the father hissed, drawing Percy's attention back to himself. "You either pull out a goddamn Foxy plushie out of somewhere, or this place can cover the expenses of the party because we're not paying for our son's birthday being ruined."</p><p>Percy very nearly rolled his eyes.</p><p>
  <em>There it was.</em>
</p><p>"Sir, with all due respect, Fazbear’s has a very strict refund policy concerning parties. We can't pay for your son's birthday party just because he wanted a twenty dollar plushie he couldn't get."</p><p>The mother seemed to take direct offense to that, as she spoke up so loudly that the child squirming in her arms flinched. "<em>Just because he wanted a plushie</em>? He's been saving up for that thing for <em>months</em>-"</p><p>"Mom, I-I <em>haven't</em>-"</p><p>"-and now you made him <em>cry</em> and ruined the whole party and you're not ready to even adress that?!"</p><p>Percy discreetly looked around. He could see people looking over to the shrieking couple. This was bad PR for sure, oh bugger, if business slowed any more because of this then Sasha was going to have his ass-</p><p>"What seems to be the problem here?"</p><p>Percy felt as if a noose he didn't know was hanging around his neck was suddenly cut off. Footsteps approached until they were right beside them, the characteristic confused huff of breath accompanying them, as well as a twitch of shoulders the assistant manager had observed enough times in the past few weeks to recognize as partially uncomfortable and partially very irratated.</p><p>How could he be so thankful and so puzzled about being approached by a random mechanic at the same time?</p><p>He looked to his right to give Michael a confused, tight smile (a brand example of a forced <em>what-are-you-doing-here-this-is-supposed-to-be-</em>my<em>-job</em> number 3, to be exact) and almost started talking to him if he wasn't interrupted by the child's increasingly red-faced father: "Are you his manager?"</p><p>Michael's eyebrows furrowed, puzzled. "He's... <em>my</em> manager?"</p><p>Apparently, that was enough for him to be completely dismissed as the father turned to adress Percy: "We are not paying for the party if you don't fix this."</p><p>"Sir, I can't just pull out a toy that we don't have!"</p><p>Comperhension lit in the mechanic's be<strike>autiful nope nope nope nOPE</strike> eyes as he stepped closer. "Sir, you're scaring the children."</p><p>"I don't have to talk to you-"</p><p>"Neither does Percy, and yet, here we are."</p><p>Despite Michael’s introverted nature, the assistant manager had seen the elusive mechanic many times during the shift. He was almost convinced that he talked to Michael often enough that he could consider the purple-eyed brunette his friend, which was absolutely a title to be proud of in Percy's humble opinion. He knew enough about him to consider him to be in friendly terms with him, at least; he knew how Michael liked his coffee (black with a heap of sugar) and when he came in (always a minute too late) and what music he liked to listen to (alternative rock) and even his favorite colour for some bizzare reason (grey-blue).</p><p>But he in no way knew what he did to deserve the way the man now subtly stepped between himself and the couple, as if shielding him, even though he was the (assistant) manager these people wanted to talk with.</p><p>Didn’t mean he wasn’t grateful. Just confused.</p><p>The father's eyes narrowed. "Why should I talk to you if you aren’t in charge of this place, then?"</p><p>"Because you might find what I have to say particularly interesting."</p><p>He couldn't see Michael's face, but he just knew the expression had to be predatory from the way the man almost jumped away and from how the mother tightened her grip on her son and how even the hysterical child stopped sobbing for a second, looking up to the man with wide, tear-filled eyes. When he spoke, the mechanic's voice was quiet and husky in all the right ways to be threatening (Percy needed to draw in a sharp breath because oh <em>fuck</em> that voice did <em>things</em> to him).</p><p>"If you actually bothered to listen to Percy,” Michael gave him an acknowledging nod, “maybe you would actually comprehend that even in the event of an emergency, Fazbear Entertainment doesn’t issue refunds for parties that already took place. Even if they did, they wouldn’t have let you keep your money for whatever reason you seem to have.”</p><p>The father seemed to be charging up: “Now listen here-“</p><p>“Second of all,” Michael said, cutting him clean off with a murderous no-bullshit tone that almost made the man flinch, “even if you decide to take us to court - and I’m not saying you have a case in the first place - but <em>even if you do</em>, I can assure you we will win.”</p><p>“Now listen here, pal, I am a lawyer-“</p><p>“Then you should know better than to think even for a <em>moment</em> that you could win this case, because you don’t <em>have</em> one, but you already knew that from the start, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Are you implying-“</p><p>“That you are bluffing in order to save up on money you gave for your own son’s brithday party? Absolutely.”</p><p>There was a tiny beat of silence - one that was entirely too long for the red-faced, offended couple Percy had spent the last ten minutes of his life arguing with. Or for their child, for that matter.</p><p>When Michael smiled, he did so in a manner that looked way too much like a shark.</p><p>“As far as I can see it, you have two options, good sir,” he purred, eyes nearly glowing with how smug they were. “You can keep insisting that our dear assistant manager over here lets you walk away without paying - which, by the way, makes absolutely zero sense - and make your child’s day miserable just because you wanted to save up on a buck... or you could just suck it up and enjoy the rest of the party before your timeframe is over.” He gave a little twitch of his chin in the general direction of the ceiling. “So? What will it be?”</p><p>There was an uncomfotable pause during which all eyes in the pizzeria seemed to be focused on Michael. The children, the parents, the employees, the couple and their crying child, and ultimately one very much flustered assistant manager.</p><p>And then, the mother said: “Harold...”</p><p>Mister my-vein-is-going-to-burst-because-I-didn’t-get-my-way gritted his teeth before he spat “Fine” with a tone that implied that things were very much not turning out the way he wanted them to. He adressed Percy one last time: “You’re lucky your little guard dog was around.”</p><p>Percy knew the comment was meant to make him feel insecure in one way or another. That was exactly why he gave his biggest, brightest customer service smile as he cheerfully proclaimed: “Oh, I <em>know</em>. Have a <em>splendid</em> day, sir.” He briefly made eye contact with the boy who now thankfully didn’t seem to be on the verge of tears anymore. “Oh, by the way, happy birthday!”</p><p>The kid gave a shaky smile. His mother huffed as she pulled him back to the party room, her husband in tow, pointedly ignoring the stares centred at them.</p><p>“Do we still have Bonnie plushies?” he muttered to Michael absent-mindedly.</p><p>“How the fuck-“</p><p>“Language.”</p><p>He could just <em>hear</em> the eye roll in the next sentence. “<em>Hickety heck two abs and one peck</em>, how am <em>I</em> supposed to know?”</p><p>“I mean, you’re familiar enough with company policy-“</p><p>“That doesn’t mean anything and you know it, Colter. I was around and what they were doing would just make everyone have a shi-crappy day.”</p><p>The assistant manager shaked his head slightly, eyeing Michael for a second.</p><p>“Thank you,” Percy said.</p><p>Michael went frigid, wide eyes blinking as he looked back at Percy. Then he twitched his shoulders, composing himself. “Just doing my job.”</p><p>“I think it went a little beyond that.”</p><p>“No it didn’t.”</p><p>“Okay, it didn’t.”</p><p>Another confused stare. Jesus, he never stopped to properly appreciate just how <strike>cute</strike> <strike>pretty</strike> <strike>charming</strike> <em>different</em> Michael looked when he wasn’t scowling twenty-four seven. The people around them started to mill about again, ignoring them from where they stood to the side.</p><p>“Uh, I’ll just-“ the mechanic gulped and looked to the side. “I’ll be going back, now.”</p><p>“Alright,” Percy said, trying really hard not to laugh.</p><p>“And, uh, you’re really welcome.”</p><p>At that, he caved and gave short, bright chuckle. Michael briefly looked like he was struck by lightning before he chuckled awkwardly in return and turned on his heels.</p><p>He tried to ignore how his eyes stayed on the mechanic even as he left.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welp that’s the first week down, only 24 days more to go!<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Sneaking around</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There’s something instinctively both thrilling and incredibly awkward about making out with a lover inside your parent’s home. Michael, rest assured, was not immune to feeling that way as well, but damn him if he didn’t have the slightest single urge to stop.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a short(er) one but I’m not really trying to be consistent with these so<br/>Btw to the new (and old) people reading this welcome and thank you so much y’all</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their quiet giggles echoed through the empty house as they came through the door, embracing and whispering excitedly all the way through the entrance hall. Shoes were kicked off frantically and left disorderly as the pair entered the living room, holding each other close.</p><p>Michael shivered as Percy brushed his fingers over his nape. The hands that were holding onto the blond's waist tightened their grip, which only made his partner’s cheeky smile brighter.</p><p>“Hey there, stranger," Michael whispered, moving one of his hands from where they were clutching Percy's hipbones and softly brushed it over the stubble of his cheekbone. He tilted his chin upwards so that his shorter boyfriend was looking right into his eyes, nearly purring in excitement as he noted just how wide the other's pupils were. Percy snorted as he leaned closer, brushing his lips over Micheal's cheek-</p><p>Something clattered upstairs.</p><p>The pair froze in their embrace, the warmth that was overtaking them mere second ago cooling so quickly with fear it was like someone opened a window in the middle of winter to let in the snow-cold air.</p><p>"Is your dad home?" Percy whispered, moving his head in search of any new sounds in a similiar rythm as his eyes. Micheal's own eyes moved to focus on the upstairs, his heart thumping.</p><p>They didn’t say or do anything for a very long while.</p><p>And then, eventually, he relaxed.</p><p>"Nah, we're good."</p><p>"Are you sure?"</p><p>"It's an old house. Stuff like that happens sometimes."</p><p>Percy still looked a little doubtful. "Absolutely sure?"</p><p>"Positive."</p><p>After an additional second of tense silence, Percy relaxed as well, his shoulders slumping back down from where they were raised in alert. He looked at Michael with the sort of playful mischief that promised that he was either about to do something very stupid or something very miscalculated. Michael guessed it was going to be both.</p><p>And then Percy kissed him.</p><p>On the mouth.</p><p>In the middle of his family living room.</p><p>The warmth from before was back, but it wasn't the same anymore; now, it was a blazing <em>fire</em>.</p><p>As they tumbled onto the couch, giggling like mad and Percy straddling the other's lap, none of them paid any attention to the sounds anymore.</p><p>If they had, they might've noticed a pair of purple-blue eyes, watching them from the hallway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I tried to make a surprise ending but then again William Asston being a creep is hardly a surprise now is it<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Hanging out with friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which a cute little café date gets interrupted by an unexpected visitor, Michael panics, Charlie is awkward but supportive, and Percy is just oblivious to it all.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Now I am well aware of the fact that, considering that most of these drabbles take place during the early 90s, Charlie has no reason to be doing whatever she’s doing here, much less interacting with people since she probably got murdered around ‘85 as a three-year-old. <br/>However, not only do I like writing Charlie, I also believe that Michael Afton deserves a friend. So... yeah we’re doing this now. (SPOILERS) Charlie now apparently got murdered earlier and is walking the earth happily as a robot in the 90s to be the supportive sibling everyone needs.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael deeply regretted his life choices right now.</p><p>"So, you two have known each other for..?" the girl sitting opposite to him asked, only somewhat awkwardly. She has barely touched her souffle and only continued to stir the cream around her platter absent-mindedly while looking intensly at the pair before her.</p><p>"Four years," Percy mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate cake, completely absorbed in the dessert and completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere or the implications that the question carried. He smiled in his endearing, puppy-like way. "But I imagine you've known him for way longer than I have."</p><p>Charlie tried to return the smile, but ended up only with a forced grimace that maybe resembled a shadow of a grin if you looked at it in the right lighting. She turned to Michael with an awkward look on her face. Michael couldn't help but return it, hesitant to even look at his melting ice cream.</p><p>"Since we were kids, really, but we haven’t seen each other for years. It's been a while, Mike."</p><p>"It sure has."</p><p>He didn't mean to bump into his only still-living childhood friend. He didn't even register that was a possibility when Percy suggested they go try out the new café down the street from the town square. Neither did he register that, from the point of view of someone who knew him well enough to not dismiss it as two friends sharing a coffee, it was fairly obvious what was going on.</p><p>Especially to Charlie.</p><p>Michael had to admit the café was a nice one. Warm lighting seeping through the windows, a few discrete, orderly tables and a glass display case with various sweets inside it. The staff gave them privacy and the chatter of the other customers drowned out the remaining concern of being heard. It was the perfect place to take his sweet-loving boyfriend on a date to, without threat of being called out on it.</p><p>It just happened that the moment Percy went to use bathroom, Charlie came along out of nowhere, and he couldn't tell her to go away when she was so happy to see him, right? She was the closest thing to a little sister he's ever had since Elizabeth. She’s known him ever since they were tiny wankers crawling around the pizzeria while their dads worked on one thing or another. She was younger than him, considerably so, so much that he had a hard time recalling her before he was nine or ten years old. It made her about the same age as Timothy would’ve been <strike>if you haven’t murdered him</strike> and yet, they made it work. She was the only person from his past he bothered interacting with every once in a while. He couldn't just send her away when she sat down next to him and started catching up.</p><p>That didn’t make the situation any less mortifying when he realized who he was with and what Charlie was about to see.</p><p>It only got worse when Percy came back and non-chalantly plopped into his chair, completely obliviously introducing himself with all of his usual awkward vigor before ordering her food.</p><p>For as sweet as his boyfriend was, he could be surprisingly dense.</p><p>So now he was sitting at a table with his boyfriend and his childhood best friend while trying to ignore the fact that Charlie knew.</p><p>"You seem like good... friends."</p><p>Oh, she <em>definitely</em> knew.</p><p>Percy tilted his head somewhat before replying. "Uh, I... guess? Probably. Somewhat yes, uh, we are."</p><p>Micheal wanted to bury himself in the ground below him right then and there.</p><p>"That's- good."</p><p>Silence. Percy tucked into his cake once again while the two old friends stared at each other, both thinking of the same occassion - the one that took place when they were both younger, a shy of a year before he started working at Freddy’s, his head against her shoulder as he cried and sobbed out the truth that gnawed at his bones ever since a boy in kindergarden that had the brightest eyes and the most brilliant smile. The night when she hugged him back just as fiercly, whispering words of reassurance and acceptance as if she was his biological sister by flesh and blood <strike>or by wires and grime, for that matter</strike>.</p><p>Eventually, Charlie broke the silence as she stood up, not having touched her dessert at all. Her expression was still one of surpressed shock - but now, there was increasingly more and more sparks in her eyes that told of underlying... he didn’t know what it was, but from the way her eye muscles relaxed, it was something good. "I have to go now," she told them, smiling subtly as she spoke, "but do feel free to come around sometime. Both of you."</p><p>Micheal's eyes widened. "You mean it?"</p><p>"Of course I mean it, you nitwit."</p><p>Percy looked between the two of them for a second, no doubt trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words now that he detected it, before standing up and extending his hand with a smile. "Pleasure meeting you, Charlotte."</p><p>She smiled back. "Just Charlie."</p><p>"Charlie, then."</p><p>And as they said their thank-yous and goodbyes and as she walked out of the café, she looked back at Micheal for a second, looked around for another, then gave a thumbs up and mouthed 'good going, Mikey'.</p><p>There were only two people in the world who called him that. More specifically, only two people in the world who, by calling him that, made him smile.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he watched Charlie leave.</p><p>And Michael, wondering just how he got so, <em>so</em> incredibly lucky in life to be able to watch a person he held dear go and then immediately turn to another person he loved, just smiled and answered: “Never been better.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Charlie, yelling to Michael trying to hide behind a table: Michael come out!<br/>Michael: I’m gay!<br/>Charlie: Not what I meant but I support you!<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Pirate AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Silver Hook wasn’t a ship with a big crew to speak of, but the crew it carried considered each other family. Charlie guessed that, going by that logic, that made their first mate her brother-in-law.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes this is another Charlie chapter because I just love writing Charlie shut up<br/>Also I am yet again bullshitting through a time period, I apologize for the inaccuracies</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were certainly perks to being a pirate.</p><p>Well, that much should be obvious to anyone with half a brain, considering that everything in the world has its perks. However, it was still worth mentioning that sometimes, even being an overglorified sea criminal had its definite upsides.</p><p>Charlotte Emily, for one, knew all about that. As a person who had grown up practically on water and had lived on a ship her entire life, she knew the downsides of the job all too well - she knew the blisters on her hands from struggling with the ship’s ropes, the sunburn on her shoulders, the hunger that overtook the whole crew if they weren't resourceful enough, the splinters she acquired while walking the deck barefoot on particularly hot days.</p><p>They were all testimony to the harsher sides of living on the sea, sure, but the downsides of being a pirate went beyond those minor inconveniences. What really got to you after a while was the fact that you were, no matter how one put it, a criminal and a plunderer that people feared. It was the fact that you were wanted by every navy officer. It was the fact that you could wander anywhere and yet belong nowhere. It was the fact that she was, no matter what she tried, always going to be known as just another soul for the gallows in the eyes of the lawful.</p><p>However, as already said, there were perks to it.</p><p>For one, they were self-run and self-dictated; no one had to listen to no one unless you <em>wanted</em> to listen to them. They also aquired money and riches with relatively less effort than good, law-obeying merchants, but most of all, being a pirate meant being independant and free from rules one had to follow if working for a royal crew. It meant being able to work on a ship even as a woman and to not have her abilities downplayed, and, most importantly, it meant she could do whatever the hell she wanted.</p><p>And the Silver Hook's crew, despite having broken apart from a bigger pirate captain in a mutiny only a few months prior, had enough abilities covered that they could collectively do whatever they wanted - but together.</p><p>The crew was hand-picked by its captain; only people who he cared about or trusted or those who were trusted by those people ever made it on the ship. Therefore it was a smaller group - definitely smaller than Afton senior’s Golden Rabbit’s ever was, even in its worse times just after her father had left it - but a group that one could be absolutely sure wasn't going to turn into a mutiny one.</p><p>It also helped that the captain of the Silver Hook, Michael Afton, was more than a capable one, a man worth being loyal to and someone who had a reputation simply for the colour of his eyes. Anyone who saw them on a ten mile radius immediately associated them with <em>William</em> Afton and the next thing they knew people were turning tail and running before fights could even begin to break out.</p><p>Charlie knew Michael didn't like having people think of acts of violence and murder and rampage beyond any semblance of humanity they had seen his father commit when they looked at him, hated it even, but nevertheless, it was an advantage they couldn't ignore.</p><p>The Silver Hook was, therefore, quite a force to be reckoned with and impossible to take by surprise.</p><p>Sadly, that didn't stop people from trying to.</p><p>"Charlie!"</p><p>The woman's figure snapped up from where she was checking the knots they have just tied the ship's sail with as she looked up to the mast. "What?" she yelled back towards the sky.</p><p>"Come here for a second?"</p><p>She looked to the cloudless sky and the blazing sun for a moment before she groaned. "Now?"</p><p>"Bloody yes, now!"</p><p>She heard some of the crew members, lazing around in the shadows cast by various objects around the deck, chuckle in the same malicious way your sibling might laugh at you after they've just gotten out of doing a chore that you will have to do nevetheless. She did her best to glare at them as she yelled back "Fine!" in a tone that suggested that it was very much not fine. Charlie stomped over to the mast, grumbling along the way as she was forced to step out into the sun yet again.</p><p>Shit, couldn't have he waited for the sun to go just a little more downwards, where it wouldn't be actively trying to burn her skin off?</p><p>The rope ladder that led to the small nest on top of the mast was blazing hot, like she expected it would be. She made her way upwards as quick as possible until she reached the basket at the top, pulling herself one more time so that she could stand on the hazardly placed wooden planks and glare at the person who had called her from the sanctuary that was the lower deck to his humid, hot platform six metres above it.</p><p>"I have something I want you to look at," the brown-skinned teenager next to her proclaimed, not even bothering to look away from the telescope held up to his eye.</p><p>"I swear to god, Jeremy, if you hand me the telescope and then slam it into my eye when I try to look through it again I'll ask Michael to put you in the dingy and drag you behind the ship for a whole day."</p><p>Jeremy didn't even respond, just wordlessly handed her the telescope. "North," he said, as if that clarified anything. She raised an eyebrow at his before she pointedly raised the telescope and looked in the general direction he was looking at and promptly froze.</p><p>He nodded, completely calm and collected, as if that explained things completely. "I wanted to make sure it wasn't just the heat-"</p><p>"EVERYONE, GET YOUR ARSES UP!" Charlie hollered as she frantically shoved the telescope back into Jeremy's hands. "NAVY SHIP ON NORTH!"</p><p>The lazy ship suddenly came to life as sailors frantically started running around the deck, gathering their weapons or whatnot. Charlie risked a moment to glare incredulously at Jeremy: "Why didn't you tell me in the first place?!"</p><p>"Thought I was... seeing... things..." the man said as he slumped foward, swaying unsurely on his feet. Immediately, a sharp flare of concern doused her disbelief and anger as she put a steady hand on his shoulder and felt the heat just <em>seeping</em> through his clothers.</p><p>"Will you be able to make it down?" she asked. In normal circumstances she would be helping him do it, but...</p><p>"Nah," Jeremy answered, shaking his head to clear his head. "Just- go before... me. Yeah. Go tell the captain."</p><p>She looked at him some more. "Are you sure?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>Then, he gave her a raised eyebrow and just casually <em>jumped through the hole in the platform</em>.</p><p>"JEREMY!" she screamed as she rushed to look through, only to see him climbing the rope ladder with swift albeit slightly stiffer movements than usual.</p><p>"Come- Come on, now!" he yelled up at her, grinning like the bastard that he was at heart.</p><p>She growled as she launched herself down and behind him, nearly shaking her head if she didn't have a clear objective in mind.</p><p>
  <em>Go get Michael. Tell him we have trouble.</em>
</p><p>Yeah. She could do this.</p><p>Charlie ran between scattering sailors with a purpose, ignoring the chaos with the help of panic and adrenaline (a winning combination if there ever was any) as she sprinted towards the captain's cabin.</p><p>Michael was always a creature of habit - he liked to have everything planned out, written down, possibly drawn or connected with little pins. He planned every route they took meticulously, and in a hot day like this all he could do for his crew was to disappear into his cabin and discuss their future moves with his first mate - and considering his <em>close </em>relationship with his first mate it could be assumed that they also used up the time to do the displays of affection Charlie always pretended to vomit at.</p><p>Not that she didn't support them, of course. She, for one, thought that a nice lady in a dress was absolutely <em>spiffing</em>. She couldn't be completely sure about the rest of the crew, but she was pretty certain anyone who had a problem with the fact that their captain was with another man would've left immediately after that one time when the whole crew saw Michael and Percy drunkenly snog each other agressively in front of the whole deck.</p><p>Someone slammed into her.</p><p>Oh. Right.</p><p>She should probably should go to the captain. Even if he heard the ruckus, it was possible he would've just assumed it was merely the crew and their annual shenanigans again.</p><p>Charlie ran down the stairs and up to the cabin door. She didn't bother to knock as she slammed the door open.</p><p>"CAPTAIN, THERE'S A- oh."</p><p>Charlie had known Michael for years. They were childhood friends, as their fathers were co-captains. They trusted each other to the point when Michael asked her to join his mutiny crew and break off from his father’s, all she asked was when and how she could help. She came to consider him almost as her older brother; he did act like it, that was for damn sure.</p><p>Therefore, there was something instictively awkward about seeing him with his tongue down his first mate's throat.</p><p>They jumped apart as if scalded immediately, but she had already seen enough to know exactly what was going on.</p><p>"O-Oh hello, Charlie!" Percy awkwardly exclaimed from where he was desperately trying hold his unbuttoned shirt together. "We, uhm, we were just-"</p><p>"What's going on?" Michael interrupted. His expression was immediately collected and cold, undoubtedly sensing an emergency.</p><p>The look was a bit ruined by his unbuckled belt and the impressive hickey that he was sporting, but still. Charlie had enough sense to clear her mind before any more time could be lost.</p><p>"There's a navy ship that's tailing us," she said, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with the captain as he buckled his pants. Percy was a bit quicker to react than Michael - upon hearing the words he immediately launched for the muskets and swords resting on the cabin table, holding his own and absent mindedly handing Michael's to the captain himself. Michael growled out a nice and loud "Fuck, not <em>those</em> wankers again" as he took the sword from his first mate with a way too practiced gesture to be described with anything else but synced.</p><p>Charlie, for the most part, just wondered why the universe had decided that she had to barge into the room right when her brother by all but blood was about to shag his blondie.</p><p>"Gather the men, we're gonna try to avoid this," Michael said before he ran out of the cabin, barking orders as he went with his best 'collected-and-know-what-to-do-voice'.</p><p>For a second, that left Charlie and Percy alone in the cabin.</p><p>"So, uh-"</p><p>"Have you been shagging every time you go to review the route?"</p><p>Percy blushed until he was tomato red.</p><p>"O-Of course not! We just... it was kind of hot in here-"</p><p>"Do tell."</p><p>"-and we just- I mean, you know we're together, what did you think we did?"</p><p>Charlie honestly didn't have an answer to that.</p><p>They were quiet again before they heard the distinct sound of a canon being fired.</p><p>"Should we-"</p><p>"Yeah, we probably should."</p><p>"Right."</p><p>She almost wanted to pretend-vomit when she saw the pair kiss right before they delved into battle, but by then she was too absorbed in stabbing people to take care.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Am I ever going to write anything that doesn’t have homoerotic undertones? Probably not. Do I care? I probably should not gonna lie<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Halloween</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Michael is at home on Halloween to hand out candy because there’s no way he’s about to let his father do it. Percy is, as always, a little shit.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m from a country that doesn’t celebrate Halloween so I have no idea how it works in practice but I mean I heard a lot about it so that practically means I’m qualified right</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael was just about to doze off to sleep when the doorbell rang.</p><p>He snapped upwards from where he was lazing around on the couch and used the time to promptly grunt as his bones gave a satisfying crunch. He lowered his feet to the ground and was just fishing one foot around in order to catch his slipper when the door rang again.</p><p>“Yes yes, I’m coming!” he yelled in the general direction of the hall, picking up the plastic half-empty bowl of sweets on the coffee table.</p><p>He checked the clock. Quarter past eight. Well, probably not any smaller kids, then, which was nice. He’d been handing out candy the whole evening to the children who stopped by and hearing the chorus of ‘trick-o-treat’ one hundred times over got to you at some point.</p><p>However, he wasn’t about to let his... the <em>man</em> upstairs to do it.</p><p>He gave a brief glance to the stairway before he went to open the door, although he knew that no one was going to show, because to be perfectly honest no one showing was <em>exactly</em> what he hoped for. He wouldn’t put it past him to watch some random kids taking candy just for the kick of it.</p><p>Michael shuddered.</p><p>
  <em>Well, here’s another thing I’m never gonna think about again.</em>
</p><p>Another glance upwards. Then, he opened the door.</p><p>Two kids and an adult stood before him. The two boys who looked like they were about six or seven were both perfect doppelgangers of each other; probably twins, he noted. Their costumes looked like the two desperately protested against having a group costume but ended up copying each other’s theme all the same, as they were both pirates but in completely different styles - where one’s costume was blue, the other’s was red, where one had a sword the other held a musket, where one had a hat the other had an eye-patch.</p><p>The man behind them - who he supposed was a parent - wore a colourful jacket with long feathers made out of fabric attached to the arms in order to represent wings and similarly decorated pants. A bunch of long, red straps dragged behind him in a tail and a red carnival mask covered his face, a paper-mache beak and fake feathers puffing out of it. All in all, the costume seemed like it was a little too big for him, and it was obviously adjusted in some places at multiple points while being sewn, but it still quite obviously made up a parrot.</p><p>“Trick-o-treat!” the group said in chorus.</p><p>“Uh, hello,” Michael responded, handing the bowl a bit foward into the children’s reach. “Here you go.” After a moment of consideration and a brief re-thinking of the time, he added: “Take as many as you want.”</p><p>It was absolutely worth it from the way the twin’s eyes shone before they dug in.</p><p>Michael gave a brief look to the adult behind them. He half expected him to say something or the other about their health and how they shouldn’t raid his candy just because they were given permission to. He would completely understand him if he did; he’d seen enough kids on a sugar rush in the pizzeria to not want that in his house, left alone times two.</p><p>The man, however, just stood there. With the mask on, his expression was a little hard to decipher, as only about a fifth of his face was visible from under the beak. However, much to his reassurance, Michael could tell he was smiling.</p><p>It was probably that smile and how it was very much familiar to him that kicked him off.</p><p>He would’ve figured it out on his own if one of the boys, the red-coated pirate, hadn’t cried: “Look, uncle Percy, he has full-sized snickers!”</p><p>Michael promptly dropped the bowl he was carrying.</p><p>The two pirates jumped as the remaining candy bars spilled all over the floor. It took him a moment to even notice it under the weight of the realization that he was currently looking at his boyfriend dressed in a tacky parrot outfit, trick-o-treating with a pair of kids he had never seen before.</p><p>“Uhh,” he said, intelligently, before finally registering the empty bowl on the ground. “Oh- oops, butterfingers, so sorry,” he said to no one in particular as he crouched in order to pick it up, dusting off the wrappers and apologizing all the way. “I just, uh, I was just-“</p><p>“It’s alright,” Percy said. Oh, he could just <em>hear</em> the grin on his face, the absolute bastard. “You really bought the best candy, haven’t you?”</p><p>“They’re full-sized!” one of the boys cried, slightly in awe despite the shock and completely oblivious to the way Michael was still caught off-guard.</p><p>“Yeah, uh, yeah,” he said, cursing himself for being so obviously surprised as it seemed to only make Percy smile wider. “I mean uh- I wasn’t expecting <em>you</em> to show up, but you know, if I can buy good candy then why not?”</p><p>He didn’t expect the boys to pick up on the stress at the world ‘you’. Therefore they, of course, did.</p><p>“Uncle Percy, do you know him?” one asked, looking between the two men as if trying to decipher something. Percy nodded in agreement, the ridiculous feathers around his face shivering as he did. He gave a brief glance at Michael and his smile grew.</p><p>“Yeah, he’s my colleague. You know, from work.”</p><p>“Mom knows a lot of people from work,” the other twin jumped in. “She works with Aunty Lauren and she bought me a fire truck. She’s nice.” He looked at Michael. “Are <em>you</em> nice?”</p><p>Michael blinked. “Uh-“</p><p>“Oh, he’s <em>very</em> nice, believe me,” Percy chuckled. The boys both nodded gravely, as if they were just shared a secret they couldn’t tell anyone, ever.</p><p>Michael’s brain finally recovered enough for him to ask: “Who are, uh, you?”</p><p>“Well, we’re Captain Blackbeard, Yellowbeard and their loyal parrot Steve, obviously.”</p><p>He gave Percy a look.</p><p>“I mean, tonight we are. They’re my nephews.”</p><p>“Okay, but why...?”</p><p>“Oh, my sister caught something really nasty and Josh - her husband - didn’t want to leave her alone for the night, so...” Percy raised his arms in a ‘ta-dah’ motion “I’m here!”</p><p>He said it so casually. As if that was a perfectly innocent explanation to why he was dressed like a parrot on his doorstep on Halloween.</p><p>Well, it <em>was</em>. And that annoyed him even further.</p><p>“Uncle Percy, can we go now?” one of the boys asked, now that the surprise was over. His brother was already tugging him along towards the street.</p><p>“Sure. We can still do this block before we have to go home if you want to, captains.”</p><p>The boys beamed as they saluted towards their uncle and dragged him along, saying a hasty goodbye and thank-you to Michael. Percy, on the other hand, turned his head backwards just enough to be able to wave over his shoulder, a grey-blue eyeball narrowed in amusement through the hole in the mask.</p><p>Michael wanted to throw a candy bar at him. Instead, he waved back and went inside.</p><p>He tried to ignore the giddiness in his stomach all the way as he plopped back onto the couch. He also tried to ignore how seeing Percy goofing around dressed as a parrot made his stomach lurch in ways he didn’t think could possibly be awakened from over-whelming amounts of ‘damn-I-fucking-love-that-dumbass’.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am completely and utterly convinced that Percy would be That One Uncle who never got married and is extremely awkward around everyone but who the kids still absolutely adore, change my mind<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. First kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Percy stopped hiding himself from the truth at some point in his life after meeting Michael. Probably at a very very late point, but still; he came to the realization, that was for damn sure.<br/>Didn't mean he proceeded to do absolute jack shit about it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a warning this one goes a lot into internalized homophobia so... if that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this one</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Alright, spit it out," Michael said as he slammed his locker shut with way more force than necessary, but then again these were Fazbear lockers so it actually might've been impossible to close a few without using exactly as much force.</p><p>It startled an unsuspecting, tired and ready-to-go-home Percy out of his skin nevertheless.</p><p>"Oh, uh, hi!" he gasped, jumping backwards a little in shock. He gave an awkward smile at Michael and chuckled, just a little hysterically. "W-What do you need, Mike?"</p><p>"Don't fucking try it, Colter," the mechanic said, face so perfectly blank it ended up being way more unsettling than an expression of wrath could ever be. "Just tell me already."</p><p>Percy paled. "T-Tell you what?"</p><p>"Why you've been avoiding me all week."</p><p>"I- I haven't-"</p><p>"<em>Sure</em> you haven't. You just happen to walk out of rooms when I enter them on accident, then?"</p><p>
  <em>Well fuck.</em>
</p><p>Percy stopped hiding himself from the truth, at some point in his life after meeting Michael. Probably at a very very late point, but still, there was a moment while lying in bed one night he instinctively recalled as one when everything came crashing down on him, namely the fact that he definitely liked Michael way, <em>way</em> more than what was socially acceptable, and that, considering the rare but very prominent times he went clubbing at some <em>very</em> specific locations, this kind of feeling he had for the man was not going to go away any time soon.</p><p>He came to the realization, that was for damn sure. Didn't mean he proceeded to do absolute jack shit about it. </p><p>Well, actually, it probably would've been much better if he just didn't do jack shit about it.</p><p>Instead, he started avoiding the man altogether.</p><p>He didn't mean to, to be sure. At first, he genuinely thought he could just live with this, deal with it by simply pushing it down deep enough. It had worked plenty of times before, whenever he realized a boy in his class looked very good in that new jacket, or that another had a laugh that he simply melted at, or that a third one looked just so perfect when he threw his hair back like that.</p><p>It refused to work now. Even worse - ignoring the the roaring beast in the back of his mind made it <em>stronger</em>.</p><p>Every time when their fingers brushed, or when he squeezed a smile out of the usually stone-faced mechanic, or when Michael remembered that Percy didn't like raisins without being asked, or when he said goodbye to Percy in that low, grumbling voice of his - fuck, that did <em>things</em> to him, things he didn't even think were <em>possible</em>.</p><p>And it made him terrified. Also disgusted at himself for feeling that way for another man, for one he considered his friend, even, but mostly terrified.</p><p>It was for the best, he told himself every time he left a room immediately after Michael entered with a flimsy excuse. It was the right thing to do - distance himself from the man who obviously didn't return his affections because otherwise, he was just manipulating him into feeding his revolting desires, and he hated himself even more for every time he stayed than every time he left. He couldn't do that to Michael; couldn't feign like all he wanted was to be friends, when in reality he was having perverted thoughts that made him shiver in disgust.</p><p>And god, being Michael's friend was amazing - it was something he didn't want to lose, but he was selfish, and he knew that at some point or another one of the two was going to happen; either he cut off ties with the man for his own good himself, or he slipped up and Michael would never want to see his face again anyway.</p><p>In the end, it hurt less - mostly for Percy, and he knew that was egoistic, but he couldn't help clinging to that last bit of control he had over the roaring monster at the back of his mind that was his attraction towards Michael.</p><p>The mechanic's cold voice brought him back to reality and he desperately ignored the urge to flinch. "Didn't you think I'd notice when after talking to you for eight months, you just straight up started ignoring me?"</p><p>Percy knew denying was hopeless. Still, he tried: "I'm not- avoiding you, Mike, I've just been stressed out lately and I, uh, I'm sorry if you thought I was ignor- ignoring you, I didn't mean to, I swear-"</p><p>Michael's jaw tightened. "You really thought I'd believe that?"</p><p>First, he develops disturbing thoughts about this beautiful, smart, kind man, then he ignores him, and now he's gaslighting him. He felt his neck heat up in shame.</p><p>"Just-" Michael sighed, voice still a cold, empty husk of his usual tone, eyes avoiding Percy's as he spoke: "Just tell me what's wrong. Whatever I did, I'm sorry, and you don't have to tell me, but please, at least give me <em>something</em>."</p><p>And now, Michael was behaving as if he was asking too much of <em>Percy</em>. For a moment, he wanted to genuinely start crying.</p><p>"Mike-"</p><p>"If I did anything weird, or said anything weird, you don't need to tell me what it was. Just please- just <em>tell</em> me you want me to leave you alone. I will. I just want you to tell me what you <em>want</em>," Michael muttered. Percy didn't miss how his voice cracked on the last syllable.</p><p>Michael was hurt. He was so obviously hurt, so obviously feeling betrayed and wondering what he did wrong and wanting to rekindle the bond but not knowing what it was that broke it in the first place, and Percy felt terrible about it, but he just couldn't do anything without telling him and telling him would be so much worse, but he was already hurt and he was hurting him even more, but he didn’t want to, but he couldn’t tell him, but he wanted to because maybe it would hurt him less, but he couldn’t.</p><p>He was silent for a beat too long.</p><p>Michael, unfortunately, took his silence for an answer.</p><p>His purple-blue eyes darkened. “Fine,” he hissed, pulling his jacket on with a violent gesture. “I just thought...” He paused mid-gesture before shaking his head. “You know what, forget it.”</p><p>And then he started to leave, head bowed, footsteps loud and rushed and still so obviously hurt.</p><p>Percy knew this could be it. This could be the moment he broke all ties with the man, when Michael unknowingly cut himself free from obliviously feeding Percy’s disgusting wants. It was an inevitable moment that he knew they were going to reach at one point or another. He knew if he left Michael leave now, the man would probably never want anything to do with him, and that was what he was supposed to want.</p><p>But Michael was hurt, and Percy didn’t want to hurt him, but it was inevitable, but he could hurt him less, couldn’t he, if he just told him, but he could ruin his life if Michael told anyone else and Michael... he wouldn’t just be hurt, he’d be <em>revolted</em> by him, no doubt, and Percy, like the selfish, terrified bastard he was, would do <em>anything</em> just to cling to that last thing he had left of their friendship, but he shouldn’t, he should tell him, but he shouldn’t, but he should-</p><p>Something broke. He didn’t know what exactly, but something definitely did, because there was no other way to explain the way the words came tumbling out of his mouth as if vomit he had been holding back while terribly seasick.</p><p>“Michael, I-I think I’m in love w-with you.”</p><p>Percy froze. Michael as well. Even time stopped for a beat, or at least it seemed like it.</p><p>It was just them, an empty pizzeria, and the weight of the words, hanging in the air.</p><p>And then Percy started to babble, because he was panicking and he had to speak otherwise he felt like he would die and he felt just like something that had been choking him for too long has been released so that he was finally able to breathe at the same time: “I- Mike, I- god, I-I don’t know what to say, I just- fuck, I know this is wrong, I know I shouldn’t feel this, b-but I <em>do</em>, and I can’t help it, I tried, please believe me I<em> t-tried</em> but I just can’t push it away a-and I know, I mean, I’m sure you don’t feel, uh, that- that way, but-but I just- I’m so fucking selfish and I-I don’t want to leave you but I know you’d leave me if y-you knew, and you’d be right to leave, and-and you will leave, I-I know, but I didn’t want to tell you because... oh god, if anyone knew- we work with <em>children</em>, Mike, and if anyone knew that I was- was... If anyone <em>knew </em>I’d be fired, probably b-blacklisted, fuck I’d probably go to jail, and I swear I don’t want to do anything to children, I swear to god I <em>don’t, </em>but I know how people see people- people like <em>me</em>, and I didn’t want to-to tell you, but I did, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry- you’re just- you’re <em>you</em>, you’re <em>you</em> and you’re amazing and smart and kind and you’re <em>everything</em> and I-I just can’t do this, I can’t, I tried so hard but I keep feeling things for you that I shouldn’t and I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I’m so <em>sorry</em>!”</p><p>He couldn’t get a single word out of himself anymore, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his voice coherent enough, but the silence was going to choke him and maybe that was even worse.</p><p>Michael still wasn’t moving.</p><p>He knew this was going to happen.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Percy almost flinched when Michael’s voice cut through the air.</p><p>"Okay," Michael repeated, so quietly he almost didn't hear it under the thumping of his heart before he turned back. Percy couldn’t bring himself to look from the ground as the other came closer, his footsteps echoing to his ears. "I'm going to ask you something, and you're gonna answer truthfully, alright?"</p><p>Percy could feel his heart plummet. The footsteps stopped where they were standing right in front of him.</p><p>For a moment, he considered begging. For another apologizing, swearing that he wasn't going to do anything, that he didn't mean to have those thoughts, that he couldn't help it no matter how hard he tried and that he swore he would leave Michael alone and never speak of it because of course that was what he wanted, just please, oh god <em>please</em> don't tell anyone, <em>please</em>-</p><p>In the end, all he did was nod and brace himself for the blow - by words or fists, really, it didn’t make much of a difference - to come.</p><p>It never did.</p><p>"Can I kiss you?"</p><p>He swore his heart stopped for a second.</p><p>"W-What?"</p><p>"I'm sorry, I just- fuck, okay, I'll... Can I kiss you?"</p><p>Percy choked on his breath, completely dumbfounded.</p><p>He expected a lot of things, to be sure, was ready to be slapped, yelled at, mocked, threatened, perhaps even beaten up. But this threw him for an altogether different loop he had no idea how to deal with.</p><p>He gathered himself enough to look up.</p><p>Michael was closer to him than he originally thought. His breath caught in his throat when he realized the man’s face was mere centimetres away from him, those gorgeous eyes of his bearing into him with an intensity he had never seen before. They were closer than they ever were in the entirety of the eight months knowing each other, and he had nowhere to look at but his face and his eyes and his freckles and his lips and- he, he really asked that, didn’t he, he asked if they could- if he could-</p><p>Percy swallowed the bile down his throat. “I-I don’t want you to... to force yourself-“</p><p>Michael’s expression fell slightly, concern etching into his features.</p><p>“I mean, uh, I- god, Mike, I-I <em>want</em> to, of course I want to oh god I want to but I know <em>you</em> don’t, please don’t-don’t force yourself, oh god I knew I should’t have told you, you don’t-“</p><p>And then Michael leaned forward and kissed him.</p><p>It wasn’t a perfect kiss. Not by a long shot. It involved way too many teeth and it was under an awkward angle and they were just standing there and it honestly didn’t feel good.</p><p>But, weirdly enough, Percy realized, despite every self-loathing voice he possessed that had been roaring at him just a second before, despite the utter shock he was under, he couldn’t give less of a <em>fuck</em>.</p><p>Next thing he knew his back was pressed against the lockers, Michael’s hands sprawled over his shoulders and upper back, chest against his as he dug his hand into Michael’s soft hair and tugged and made a weird sound when Michael gave a breath-taking gasp at the action. Their lips pressed together until it was almost a practiced motion, until the feeling of them on his felt nearly natural, until the sensation of Michael’s tongue and mouth felt as if it were second nature.</p><p>When they broke apart to breathe he finally took the time to look at Michael again. Percy blinked, the situation finally setting it with the sluggishness of a particularly bored snail.</p><p>“You- You... You feel...”</p><p>“Of course feel the same, you dumbass,” Michael whispered, pressing his lips against the shorter man’s in a quick, sweet peck. “Of course I fucking do.”</p><p>Percy’s eyes widened. “And I- oh shit, I tried to... oh shit, I’m so-“</p><p>“Don’t be. Please don’t be.”</p><p>“I hurt you.”</p><p>“It’s alright.”</p><p>“It’s really not-“</p><p>Then Michael kissed him again and he had no choice but to shut up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Michael: exists<br/>Percy: I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Hurt/comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It’s been a bad week for everyone working in Freddy Fazbear's pizza and Percy isn’t taking it very well. <br/>At least Michael’s there.<br/>The fact that they’re both drunk off their asses doesn’t help.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: I do not condone heavy drinking whatsoever<br/>Also, it’s Michael’s turn to be the comforting one</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a bad week for everyone working in Freddy Fazbear's pizza. More than bad, in fact.</p><p>It had been a long, terrifying week full of hysterical sobs and hushing things up and Sasha gathering the employees together more than once to both reassure them and threaten them with unimaginable lawsuits if any of them quit. Then, William Afton <em>himself</em>, someone who hadn't been seen by the employees for <em>years</em>, showed up and not only threatened everyone not to quit but to keep quiet about what had happened as well lest they wanted their lives ruined. </p><p>Some quit anyway.</p><p>Everyone was scared out of their minds, nobody knew what to do, and nobody could tell anyone anything because even if they did, no one would believe them. The situation was utterly hopeless and everyone knew it, but there was no time to acknowledge it during the shitstorm that was the week.</p><p>Michael supposed that now that it was finally over, he had to come to terms with the facts.</p><p>If only he could remember what those facts were.</p><p>"And, and I said to him, I-I said..."</p><p>A pause.</p><p>"What did..?"</p><p>"Wot...?"</p><p>"Wa'tcha- wa'tcha sa-said?"</p><p>"You-You know!" Percy exclaimed, flailing his hands about and almost spilling the wine glass in his hand. "Ho-How to <em>do</em> it! All the s-stuff!"</p><p>"Wh-Which stuff?" Michael mumbled as he poured himself another glass. A few droplets slowly made their way down his hand and dripped onto the floor, but he was beyond caring or even recognizing the sensation at that point.</p><p>Percy took a long swig of his wine, his eyes going glazed for a second. At some point he stopped drinking and just remained still with the glass held to his chapped, round lips.</p><p>He wasn't supposed to be thinking about those - actually, he <em>could</em> think about them, now, now that they were finally able to do things together, but he shouldn't, they were too drunk and he shouldn't, but then again, he wasn't supposed to be spilling wine all over the floor and yet, here they were.</p><p>"The animalo- animatric- no, ani- animathingys-"</p><p>"...Animatronics?"</p><p>"Yes!" Percy cried, flopping backwards onto the couch. It was a miracle he didn't spill any of the wine any more than he already did. "I- I told him, that... that we so-sometimes had thingys go bad in the l-last place... when... when it's dark, an-and he didn't li-listen!" He looked at Michael, his eyes weirdly glossy. "Why didn' he <em>listen</em>?"</p><p>Michael's eyebrows furrowed. "Who?"</p><p>"The <em>guy</em>!" Percy exclaimed, borderline hysterically. "The night... night-guy!"</p><p>Somewhere in the back of Michael's drowsy mind, something clicked. "The... <em>the</em> guy? The dead one?"</p><p>Percy froze for a second, eyes wide. Then, he grabbed the bottle on the coffee table and groaned when he realized it was empty. He did this with one more before finally finding one that still had some liquid inside of it, and poured himself another.</p><p>Michael felt bile rising up his throat.</p><p>"Tha' really happen'd, didn' it?" he asked. Percy remained silent, so he continued, not knowing why he needed to. "He... he's dead. The guy. He died. Just like tha'. Munch-munch, and now he's dead. 'Cause he's in a suit. The Freddy one, not the yellow, because the yellows were deco-der- put away. But he’s in a suit. And he's dead."</p><p>
  <em>Fuck, he hasn't been this drunk in years.</em>
</p><p>"I thought..." Percy mumbled, swirling the red liquid around in his glass, his beautiful eyes still dazed and not fully there but damn they were still beautiful. "They... Nothin' h-happened, with the... with the night s-shifts. It's been quiet, the nig-nights, ever since we-we opened, I thought... I thought they might've jus' sto-stopped, but they haven', an-and now tha' guy is- he's-"</p><p>Percy didn't finish the word, because that was the moment when he started sobbing, and Michael's heart immediately wrenched.</p><p>"G-God, I thou-thought he'd be <em>alright</em>, the-the guy, bu-but he wasn', and now he's <em>d-dead</em>, and now his fami-fami-family's searchin' for 'im and we can' tell anyone because he's fuckin' <em>dead</em>, Michael, oh <em>fuck</em>-"</p><p>Percy's sobs were getting increasingly hysterical. Michael's thoughts were getting increasingly out of hand.</p><p>
  <em>Percy is... he's sad, super sad, and I'm sad too I think, god I'm so drunk, we're too drunk for this and he's so sad, I don't want him to be sad I want him to be happy and I want him to know it, but I can't go comfort him 'cause that's not what I should do, 'cause we're drunk, and you can't go up to drunk people like that, they can't give conse-consequ- no, that's not it... they can't- can't say no, and I want to hold him but we said we'd wait and what if I do something that's too much, and I don't want to fuck this up, what if it's too much for him and I fuck up and he'll leave me? And that guy's still dead, fuck he's dead, super dead, and we're too drunk, and this is- this is shit. This is all such shit.</em>
</p><p>Percy was just babbling at that point. "Oh god, Mi-Mike, he's dead, they killed him, shov-shoved him in a s-suit like an endo-endoskely- they killed him, they really did, and I-I knew, it h-happened in the old location, oh god oh god oh god-"</p><p>The blond was shaking, and crying, and he set his glass down at some point because now he was curled into a fetal position and sobbing hysterically, and even though he was still talking he couldn't make out what he was saying and suddenly, Michael realized something.</p><p>He knew this. There were so many thing he couldn't understand, couldn't begin to think about, this week, but he understood this.</p><p>"Percy," he said, voice surprisingly steady for how sloshed he was. "Percy, you're- you're having a panic attack."</p><p>But the blond didn't seem to hear him. He just kept sobbing and babbling and crying and he was such a wreck and and Michael couldn't stand it.</p><p>"P-Percy," he tried, setting the glass on the table in a sudden moment of soberness before he turned to adress him again. "Percy, you- you're too p-panic-panicky to think, you need to stop it."</p><p>"Mi-Mike, I can't b-" his boyfriend suddenly gasped, his eyes impossibly wide as he looked at him. "I ca-can't <em>breathe-</em>"</p><p>Michael didn't know what he was thinking. Probably nothing much, to be perfectly honest. But in that moment, even though in some distant corner of his mind he didn't want to cross any boundaries and even though this relationship was just barely starting out and he didn't want to ruin it by going too fast while drunk off his ass, he simply couldn’t stay on his end of the couch any longer.</p><p>Michael stood and made two crooky, wobbly steps towards his boyfriend before he crumbled right next to him onto the couch and held him tight. Percy's hands immediately shot up to grasp at him, and he was wheezing for air and crying and god Michael couldn't stand to see him like this.</p><p>"Hey, hey hey hey, in and-and out? Alright? In... Out..."</p><p>He was too drunk to say anything else other than "in" and "out" in a slow, soothing manner, but Percy didn't seem to mind. Their limbs intertwined impossibly as the smaller of the two pulled at Michael desperately, making him topple onto his boyfriend's heaving, shivering figure.</p><p>He should have probably tried to get up, give Percy some space to breathe in. However, he was held too tightly to even attempt to.</p><p>He repeated the words for so long they almost lost their meaning, until he could finally hear Percy breathing again, albeit shakily and albeit still sobbing.</p><p>Michael leaned over to press a light kiss to his boyfriend's wet cheek. Then, he pressed one to his forehead. Then his hair. Then his nose. Then his cheekbone.</p><p>Boundaries were thrown out of the window at that point.</p><p>"It-It's okay..." he mumbled against his boyfriend's neck as he peppered it with light, reassuring kisses. "It's okay."</p><p>It wasn't. It really, really wasn't, but for a moment, they both pretended it was.</p><p>They fell asleep at some point. Michael honestly couldn't remember when.</p><p>He just knew it was when Percy's breathing finally evened out, and when the blond kissed him on the lips, and when they both embraced into a hug with too many limbs and edges to be comfotable but was still exactly what they needed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This turned out a lot angstier than I originally planned but who am I to complain<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Formal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Michael’s usual attire usually compromised of something one would lightly call ‘messy’ - he wasn’t exactly one to wear formal wear on a regular basis. To be honest, neither was Percy, but to hell with it if he wasn’t going to help his boyfriend.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Y’all not gonna lie I spent about an hour writing this and a solid half of it was dedicated to thinking about what occasion a person would wear formal clothing to</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Keep still!"</p><p>"You keep trying to choke me!"</p><p>"That's exactly <em>because</em> you can't keep still!" Percy said in an exasperated tone as he tried to take hold of both ends of Michael's tie. "And don't look at me like that!"</p><p>His boyfriend, like the over-dramatic bastard that he was, continued to give him a slightly glowering look nonetheless. "I'm not <em>looking</em> at <em>anything</em>," he muttered as Percy tied the knot for the hundreth time that morning. The blond sighed, but didn't dare to counter, as Michael was finally still and he was almost done with the knot-</p><p>There it was. <em>Finally</em>.</p><p>"There. And don't you dare loosen it, okay?” Percy chided as he dusted of the lapels of Michael's suit jacket and stepped back to admire his handiwork.</p><p>The brunette was dressed in a traditional black suit and matching slacks. Somewhere in between Percy had forced his own pair of dark shoes to make up for the fact that Michael didn't have any that weren't brown leather or trainers. The fresh white shirt underneath the jacket contrasted quite nicely against the darker undertone of the outfit, and if he had to say so himself he'd say that the purple tie complimented Michael’s eyes quite well.</p><p>Now the only thing he had to take care of was the mess that was Michael's long, let-down hair and the positively murderous expression on his face.</p><p>"I feel like a penguin," Michael grumbled as he started to pull at the edge of his tie again, and Percy gave him a <em>very</em> long look. He stopped, but it was fairly obvious that he stopped only because Percy was looking at him the entire time as he pulled out a brush from a faraway corner of the cabinet drawer from where it had been abandoned by Michael for what the blond supposed were probably <em>years</em>.</p><p>"Well, you make a positively <em>dashing</em> penguin if I do say so myself," the blond said as he gestured for his boyfriend to turn around.</p><p>He gently combed his fingers through Michael's long hair, just to get a feel of it. As someone who had grown up with an older sister he had enough experience in brushing hair and having his own brushed that he knew that it would probably hurt like a bitch if he went and started tugging on the knots immediately.</p><p>"I don't get it," he heard Michael grumble from where he was awkwardly trying to stand still. "I haven't heard from Vincent in years. I mean, like, literally years. I think the last time we spoke was when I was in <em>high school.</em> And now, out of the blue, he's inviting me to his daughter's baptism?"</p><p>"Hey, you never know. Maybe he wants to rekindle the bond?" Percy suggested as he started brushing at the tips. Michael snorted.</p><p>"Bloody unlikely. We never really hung out, as kids," he said and relaxed a little against Percy's gentle ministrations. He gave an unsure shake of his head and stopped immediately when his hair was tugged backwards. "He's... just a cousin, you know? The one you meet at family reunions twice a year, maybe. And after the whole deal with mum and... everything after... we never had those. Or at least, <em>we</em> weren't invited."</p><p>Percy pointedly ignored the old bitterness in the words, rather deciding to save the matter for later when they weren’t on a schedule. He struggled with a particularly stubborn knot in silence for a good minute in order to let Michael continue, because he guessed he was far from done.</p><p>His guess was correct.</p><p>"And I'm not really religious as well!" Michael exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his hand. "Like, I don't go to church, I don't pray, fuck I don't think dad has even bothered with <em>explaining</em> religion to me, let alone practicing it. And now a baptism? Just- <em>why</em>?!" He turned slightly to look Percy in the face. "You know?"</p><p>Percy didn't know. He nodded nevertheless.</p><p>"And I also don't know what to say to him! I haven't even bought a gift!"</p><p>"Hey, we bought a gift."</p><p>"We bought <em>flowers</em>, that's what we bought. Who even comes to a baptism with flowers?! Not even the crazy cat lady aunt comes to a baptism with flowers!"</p><p>Percy shrugged. The brush was much easier to run through the other's hair now. "I mean, they didn't exactly give you time to think up anything creative, now did they?"</p><p>"I mean, yes, but still!"</p><p>Percy sighed. "I think you're exaggerating a bit." Michael gave an offended gasp and tried to turn, but the blond pressed a firm hand against his scalp to stop him from tearing out a solid chunk of his hair. He waited for the squirming to stop before he went back to brushing the increasingly softer locks. "You're going to be fine."</p><p>"That's what you tell people before you tell them they're going to die."</p><p>"I have done no such thing."</p><p>"Percy, I've listened to your old training tapes. I know."</p><p>The blond, who desperately tried to ignore how the comment made his jaw (and chest) clench, reached for the elastic band on the cabinet while taking a few strokes through the dark hair for good measure. “Well, it’s only going to last a few hours, at best.”</p><p>“Yeah, a few hours in a freezing church with a crying baby, wearing <em>this</em> thing,” Michael said with a clear undertone of disgust as he tugged at the edge of his suit. Percy rolled his eyes as he tied the ponytail, careful to keep it as presentable and respectable as possible while also keeping it comfortable for his boyfriend. He stepped away to look him up and down, and then raked his eyes over his figure yet again for good measure because <em>damn</em> did those slacks compliment Michael’s figure <em>extremely</em> nicely.</p><p>“You look amazing,” he told him, truthfully. Michael rolled his eyes, but Percy didn’t fail to notice a slight redness that appeared on his cheeks at the comment.</p><p>“You always say that.”</p><p>“That’s because I always mean it, Mikey.”</p><p>The brunette positively scoffed, but by then he was already smiling and damn, did that feel like the biggest accomplishment of the morning to Percy (although he had to admit that the ponytail came to a very close second).</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the help, you sap,” Michael muttered, the blush on his face still visible as he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror despite his obvious distaste for the clothing itself. Percy grinned.</p><p>“Anytime, darling.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Whoever gets the Vincent reference is an official veteran of this fandom<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Soulmate AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Each person has a spirit animal that directly reflects their soulmate’s personality; Percy sometimes wishes that his own didn’t reflect Michael’s realism, especially not when the night shift is about to start.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I found this idea on tumblr, but I imagine this world working in a way similar to Phillip Pullman‘s His dark materials (ie how dæmons work except you have your soulmate’s dæmon instead of your own)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“...be sure to check the door lights. Uh, you might only have a few seconds to react...”</p><p>“Too morbid.”</p><p>“Uh, not that you would be in any danger, of course. I'm not implying that.”</p><p>“Now you’re even <em>more</em> morbid but in the opposite way.”</p><p>Percy gave the creature underneath his desk a tight glare. The animal didn’t react beyond a flick of the ear.</p><p>“Also, check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time. The character in there seems unique in that he becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn't like being watched. I don't know.”</p><p>He gave a brief glance to his watch. Seven minutes till midnight. He should probably wrap things up.</p><p>“Anyway, I'm sure you have everything under control! Uh, talk to you soon."</p><p>The recorder shut off with a soft click as Percy pressed the stop button, and suddenly, the whirring of the tape went quiet. He sat still for a short second to listen to the silence that engulfed the dim nightwatch room, then reached for the headpiece on his ears and pulled it off with a controlled, almost routine gesture.</p><p>"Well that was shit."</p><p>He rolled his eyes, not even bothered enough to turn his chair in order to face the lynx lying by his feet, let alone to actually respond.</p><p>“I mean,” Walerie tried again, “killer furry robots are going to try to hunt you down isn’t exactly the most believable thing to say, now, is it?”</p><p>“At least the newbie’ll have <em>some</em> sort of warning,” Percy retorted as he pushed the chair away from the table. He elected to completely ignore the way the lynx snorted, obviously looking for provocation. He gathered up the recording equipment and stuffed it back into the desk drawer it belonged to.</p><p>Eventually, Walerie spoke again: “They aren’t going to believe you, Percy.”</p><p>“Then maybe it’ll at least scare them a bit.”</p><p>“Yeah, right.”</p><p>“Don’t you <em>yeah right</em> me.”</p><p>“I will bloody well do whatever I want.”</p><p>Percy gave a sarcastic laugh as he checked his watch again. Five more minutes. “Is this Michael speaking or is it just his spirit animal?”</p><p>The lynx gave him an unimpressed look. He chuckled nonetheless.</p><p>“We’re worried about you, Percy.”</p><p>That made his smile drop immediately.</p><p>Sometimes, he wondered how much of Michael’s conciousness Walerie really shared. She had barely changed since the two soulmates met, which he guessed made sense, but it implied that she was the way she was from the start; that she shared Michael’s personality since, well, forever, and that she didn’t pick <em>anything</em> up from Michael because they already shared the things that made him, well, <em>him</em>.</p><p>Somehow, knowing that Walerie was an uninfluenced reflection of his soulmate made more sense than how both the human and his spirit animal carried an absolutely relentless urge to point out stupid things Percy was doing, and to fail to back down once he attempted to downplay it as a joke. Michael would say he had gotten used to it from Canalin, Walerie would say she’d gotten used to it from Percy, and then both him and the corgi would fire back with how they had to each put up with soap operas because of their soulmates, and then the two spirit animals would hang back and watch their humans bicker.</p><p>“Percy, don’t ignore me.”</p><p>He wasn’t in the mood for bickering right now. “Two more minutes to go. We should probably get ready.”</p><p>“Percy-“</p><p>“It’s my last week, Wal,” he said. “Just this week, and then we’re done.”</p><p>The lynx bristled. “And if we die?” she hissed. “What then? You leave Michael completely alone with a severed spirit animal?”</p><p><em>Severed</em>.</p><p>A thought came into his mind. A very treacherous one at that. The thought of the corgi at Michael’s side – his reflection, if one was to believe that – being reduced to what amounted to a normal dog. The thought of Michael being left alone in the world with only a shell of what was supposed to be the other half of Percy’s personality. The thought of Michael having half of his own ripped away.</p><p>He tried to ignore the way his insides clenched in guilt. He failed.</p><p>“You’re really going to risk your own life over this pizzeria chain?”</p><p>“We have no other choice-“</p><p>”You’re really going to risk getting killed just because... what, exactly? Because you can?”</p><p>”Walerie, it’s the only option-“</p><p>”You <em>dying </em>is<em> the only option?!”</em></p><p>”I didn’t say that! It’s just going to work out the best in the long run-“</p><p>“Oh, I see. Putting your life in harm’s way for no discernible reason is going to work out <em>just great.</em> I see how that could easily be misinterpreted as not complete and utter <em>bullshit</em>.”</p><p>”Listen to me-“</p><p>”I’m not about to-“</p><p>“Just <em>listen </em>to me, Wal,” he growled. The lynx finally seemed to falter in her endless rant for long enough to let him talk. “If I leave, this company isn’t going to leave me and Michael alone. I know too much for them to just let me quit. This is the <em>only</em> <em>chance</em> for us to go out there and live out our lives without being tied to Freddy’s, and if I have to risk that, then-“</p><p>A sharp laugh sounded through the pizzeria. Both the man and the spirit froze.</p><p>Then, Walerie moved to under the desk without a word. Percy took the clue and picked up the tablet.</p><p>They didn’t speak again that night.</p><p>Walerie’s worried eyes on him were more than enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just to clarify; yes, Percy’s spirit animal is a corgi and Michael’s is a lynx. I have my reasons.<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Sick fic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Going into burnt-out flu was something Michael had seen a lot while in college. Enough that he knew how to deal with it.<br/>Now, if only he could get Percy to eat something, that would be great.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Even though it’s still corona time in my country I thought it would be nice just to write a normal sick fic for the kick of it</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Going into burnt-out flu was something Michael had seen a lot while in college.</p><p>Yeah, sure, he wasn’t the most social person around to be fair, but one could hardly get through sharing a dorm with two other people without forming at least some level of acquaintanceship. He also had the unfortunate honour of being the most independant one in the dorm (courtesy of his wonderful father who found it acceptable to let a kid stay home alone for a whole day without preparing him food first; he probably wouldn’t have survived if he wasn’t independant, really), so he was immediately dubbed the cook of the whole goddamn party of people that were his roomates and their collective groups of friends on campus. He wasn’t the best at cooking, to be perfectly honest, but at least he knew enough to sustain himself beyond eating cereal thrice a day.</p><p>That also meant that when exam season came up and people started falling sick from over-working themselves, Michael was usually the one to make chicken soup with dumplings for them, both to be helpful and to work out some of the stress he himself had.</p><p>He didn’t know what it was with homemade chicken soup with dumplings that somehow instantly made overworked gangly young adults feel better. It was just that apparently, soup from a bag didn’t taste the same. All in all it cured many of the people who possessed the frankly unfortunate ‘burn-out flu’ in a matter of days, because it encouraged them to stay still and just sip the soup for a few minutes before they usually fell asleep and got the rest their body needed.</p><p>Therefore, he assumed it was also going to cure his idiotic workaholic of a boyfriend.</p><p>“Eat up,” he said as he handed the bowl into Percy’s hands. “You’ll feel better.”</p><p>The pile of blankets that faintly resembled the outline of a human person dragged a bowl into its lap. It stayed exactly where it was, silently shivering until eventually, a loud sneeze broke the silence. The soup sloshed in the bowl but didn’t spill, and Michael was for one very grateful that he only filled it half-way, unsure of how much Percy would be able to eat.</p><p>Michael rolled his eyes. “Please run by me how exactly you planned on going to work today, again?”</p><p>A small, croaky voice replied: “I’m not <em>so</em> sick.”</p><p>Michael took in Percy’s matted bed-hair, unfocused eyes, trembling figure and the all-in-all messy, red-nosed and absolutely dead-looking appearance and raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“I mean I’m-“ he coughed and Michael resisted the urge to flinch at just how loud the sound was. “I’m j-just a bit un-under the weather.”</p><p>“A <em>bit</em>.”</p><p>The fact that Percy didn’t protest or in any form respond to the clear sarcasm made Michael’s protective instincts flare up immediately.</p><p>“Come on, eat the soup,” he said gently as he sat down on Percy’s bed. “I didn’t come here just to watch you passive-agressively saunter towards death.”</p><p>The blond looked at him - or in his general direction, he supposed, Percy was damn-near blind without his glasses - and said: “You-You didn’t have to come.”</p><p>“Please. As if I’d just ignore the fact that you didn’t show up to work,” Michael said with an eyeroll. “And the fact that you didn’t even call in sick.”</p><p>Percy blushed through the green tint of nausea on his cheeks. “I- I slept through my alarm clock.”</p><p>“And goddamn right that you did, your body needs that right now,” Michael replied before he grinned. “But you know what it also needs?”</p><p>Percy gave him a positively miserable expression. “P-Please not more tea, I’m going to be <em>sick</em>.”</p><p>“Not more tea, you doofus. You need salt. And liquid, sure.” He gestured towards the bowl. “Dig in.”</p><p>The blond looked at the soup for a long moment, almost as if entranced. “I-I’m not hungry.”</p><p>“That’s not a viable excuse, I’m afraid.”</p><p>Still nothing. Percy remained still and silent as he stared at the soup. He almost looked like he was falling asleep with his eyes open.</p><p>Michael was having none of it.</p><p>“Fine,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Colter, I’m giving you one last opportunity to do this on your own.”</p><p>Percy gave him an apologetic grimace. “I-I’m sorry, it smells good, I’m just no-not hungry.”</p><p>The burnette gave a long, suffering sigh. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”</p><p>“Warn me about what-“</p><p>Michael climbed over to sit on Percy’s outstretched legs, effectively trapping the smaller man between his own weight and the blanket and pillow pile behind him. The blond was, as Michael expected, too dizzy and disoriented to react properly when he gently pried the soup bowl from his hands. He took the time to cut away a small piece of a dumpling as Percy slowly came to terms with what was happening before he carefully offered him a spoonful of the soup, holding the bowl below it to prevent it from spilling onto the covers.</p><p>The blond finally caught up enough to give him an exasperated, tired look. “Mike-“</p><p>“Eat it.”</p><p>“Michael I’m not-“</p><p>“Eat it or I’ll tie your hands to the headboard and <em>force </em>you to eat it.”</p><p>“Michael, as-as much as I appreciate your, uh, <em>kinks</em>-“</p><p>“This isn’t sexual and you bloody know it, Colter. When’s the last time you ate?”</p><p>“...’m not hungry.”</p><p>“That doesn’t answer my question.”</p><p>More silence. So yesterday he supposed. Good to know.</p><p>He made a small circle with the spoon. “Open up.”</p><p>“I-I can take care of myself.”</p><p>“Yes, Percy, I <em>know</em> you can. But not when you’re so sick you’re unable to stand, okay?”</p><p>Reassurance usually did the trick with people reluctant to accept help. Sure enough, after a minute of tense silence Percy finally gave and slumped backwards into the pillows with a quiet cough. Michael reached out with the spoon and the blond finally ate the goddamn soup-soaked piece of dumpling.</p><p>Michael counted it as a victory.</p><p>Only after two additional portions of spoon-fed chicken soup did Percy protest: “O-Okay, I can do it by my-“ A sneeze. “By myself.”</p><p>The brunette hummed as he fed him another spoonful. “You promise?”</p><p>“Y-Yeah.”</p><p>Michael passed him back the bowl and spoon, but didn’t move from where he was perched on his legs. Percy didn’t say anything about it as he dig in with a bit more life than before.</p><p>“Is it any good?”</p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p>Michael smirked as he watched the bowl get increasingly empty until eventually, the last piece of dumpling was gone. “Glad to see you’ve regained your appetite.”</p><p>Percy sneezed, but it failed to cover up his slightly guilty expression. “I-I didn’t feel hungry.”</p><p>“That’s ‘cause you’re sick,” the burnette remarked as he took the bowl. “It’s normal.”</p><p>“Your soup’s good.”</p><p>“Years of practice.”</p><p>“<em>Really</em> good.”</p><p>“Like I said.”</p><p>“No, but- I <em>liked</em> it.”</p><p>Michael have him a weird look before he saw Percy’s expression and everything dawned on him.</p><p>Puppy eyes.</p><p>Of course. Now he was giving him <em>puppy eyes </em>even while sick, the <em>bastard</em>. Like they were going to work. Of course not.</p><p>“Okay, I’ll go get you some more.”</p><p>
  <em>Dammit.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Interacting with family members</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>William Afton was a lot of things. However, he was not stupid, and neither was he blind to the looks his son kept throwing at the Freddy Fazbear’s Oakland location’s assistant manager.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for William being a bag of dicks (and for the author disliking child murderers). Also a brief reference to suicide and a slightly less brief reference to murder</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>William Afton was a lot of things.</p><p>First and foremost, he was an inventor. He created; took things apart and put them back together and brought them to life, first with screws and bolts, then with screws and bolts and blood and guts. He dared to look for solutions where others wouldn't even try. He reached above morality and into mortality, stepped over obstacles in a way no other had been capable of. It was truly a pity Henry had been unable to follow him, but in the end, their friendship was a necessary sacrifice to achieve what he had - he was capable of things beyond the human realm, as he was someone who dared and someone who invented, and if Henry was foolish enough to stop at boundaries such as <em>empathy</em> and that oh-so-sweet <em>concern</em>, well, that wasn't his problem, now, was it?</p><p>Second, he was a businessman. While Henry was still around they usually split the numbers between the two of them, but, needless to say, he was always the one that was better at the math of things. He left Henry to deal with the people side of everything while he ran the risks and possibilities of their little business crashing or rising. Now that Henry was gone - well, dealing with people was still a bit of a pain in the arse, rest assured, but he had the capabilities needed to maintain the small hand-made empire he had built, and run it through casualties that would've made other places crash and burn.</p><p>Third of all, he was good with words. He might've disliked interacting with people, if only it frustrated him to no end, but he had this intriguing ability to make others trip all over themselves simply by observing them long enough to know what it took for them to experience a certain emotion. That was part of the reason why he liked robots so much - they were, essentially, only buttons to press and switches to flick and wires to connect, and the exact same could be applied to people with enough effort. He could easily give a nudge in the right direction once he knew how someone operated, and then it was only a matter of time before he could get what he ultimately wanted of them - if he tried hard enough, he could even reshape people without them ever noticing, take them apart, give them enough warmth to make them stay but enough scorn to constantly want to prove themselves until they were catering to him because they needed him to be there. In moderate amounts it was barely noticable, really.</p><p>He only went too far once.</p><p>(His wife's death had been such an unfortunate event. He thought he'd trained her better.)</p><p>Fourth was the fact that he was a father, much as he didn't care for it. Never was one for family life much, and now that most of his family was dead, well, at least he didn't have anyone nagging him when he came home. The last time he remembered actually caring for a child of his was when Elizabeth and Timothy were born. Ironic, how the child he cared the least about was the only one he had left.</p><p>Most of the time, he didn't care to notice him because there was no need to as long as Michael didn't try to rile him up, but <em>damn</em> was that hard with the utter fuck-up the boy was. He left him alone most of the time, but every now and then, Michael needed to be reminded of his place. Not that it was hard to do so.</p><p>Amazing, what words could do.</p><p>All in all, William Afton was many, many things. He was intelligent; he was manipulative; he was capable.</p><p>But he was not, in any way, shape or form, stupid.</p><p>He never cared much for love. He liked the concept of it, in a sense - he wouldn't say no to someone who was there solely to care about him, but humans were such attention-craving, boring creatures that he found it very hard to feel anything but nonplussed about the entire thing. He tried it, definitely, to see how it went, even went as far as to give it a shot with a guy or two in college, but it never did it for him. It was messy, it was time-consuming, it was mind-boggingly dull. His wife had been an exception, for a while, but he knew what he felt for her wasn't love, or at least what people percieved as love; her existence in his life had been comparable to that of a dog he owned as a child, merely a dumbly-loyal creature he could train to fit into the perception of what he wanted.</p><p>However, just because one does not care for rom-coms doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Just because one doesn’t care for cockroaches doesn't mean they're blind to them.</p><p>And, just because he didn't care for love, that didn't mean he was blind to the looks his son had been throwing at the Freddy Fazbear's pizza Oakland location's assistant manager.</p><p>In some way, he could understand the appeal; Colter was a blond-and-blue-eyed boy with a near-constant smile, a ray of sunshine if he borrowed Henry's words. He could see how Michael would've gotten wrapped around the assistant manager's finger quickly with that disarming smile and a flutter of eyes. He blamed his son for it - oh, he blamed him <em>immensly</em>, but he understood the feeling the same way as he understood that leeches sucked blood, as something disgusting but ultimately, just a fact.</p><p>To be clear, William didn't give a flying fuck that his son had fallen for another man. It was just the fact that he had fallen in the first place that intrigued him.</p><p>
  <em>Knock knock</em>
</p><p>"S-Sir? You called, uh, me?"</p><p>Speak of the devil.</p><p>William looked up from the papers on his desk. He didn't usually work at the pizzeria, or show up at the place at all. He was high enough up the chain that any work he had could be easily done from home, but he couldn't do this any differently than in the abandoned old office of his. In a way, the fact that he never showed up worked in wonderfully in his favour for the specific situation.</p><p>He gave a hollow grin at the squirming figure through the cracked door of his office. "Come in, Colter."</p><p>The door opened and Percy stepped in with all the caution of a rabbit wandering into a fox hole. He awkwardly fidgeted in place for a minute before William said: “Close the door behind you, please.”</p><p>He could see the alarm on the shorter man’s face clear as day, much as he tried to mask it. Something to expect, to be perfectly honest, considering that this man had been either crushing after or just plain shagging his son for a non-defined period of time.</p><p>With the door closed, the man’s anxiety levels seemed to rise considerably. He was fidgeting, eyes frantically moving around the untidy, half-way abandoned room as if something was going to jump at him. William resisted the urge to smirk when he said: “Don’t worry, Colter, I’ll be brief. I just have a favor to ask of you, you’re not in any pizzeria related trouble.”</p><p>He intentionally made it sound ambiguous, just to see how the other man would react. There didn’t seem to be a single flinch at first beyond casual confusion, but his eyes didn’t miss the way Colter’s hands started to shake.</p><p>So not only was he afraid of him because he was his boss - he <em>knew</em> something, something that made him scared beyond the threat of messing up or being reprimanded.</p><p>His eyes narrowed.</p><p>“So, uh, w-what did you need, sir?” Colter asked, voice shaking about as much as his hands were.</p><p>“I just wanted to ask you to bring over the finance files from the last few weeks,” William said in a completely non-chalant tone, as if he wasn’t observing every single detail on the assistant manager’s face at every second. “I haven’t been in the restaurant for a while and I wanted to go through them, but I can’t find them anywhere.”</p><p>That was a complete lie, of course. He knew they were in the second drawer on the third shelf in the manager’s office, but he needed to test Colter out one on one before he went and did anything with Michael.</p><p>If his son didn’t know how much William knew, he automatically had the upper hand. That was the plan, mostly - to make him a little paranoid at worst, and utterly terrified at best.</p><p>Colter looked a hint caught off guard, but also so relieved William wanted to laugh. “Oh.”</p><p>“Yes, <em>oh</em>,” he said with a nod. “So, <em>could</em> you?”</p><p>“Uh- oh, n-no problem, mister Afton,” Percy said, slightly more composed, just as William needed him to be for the next part.</p><p>“Good. I just hope that business has been going well with the current staff?”</p><p>Colter raised his eyebrows. “W-What do you mean sir?”</p><p>“I mean we don’t hire many new people, now, do we? I just want to see how the current staff is working out, with no recent additions,” he casually remarked, brushing a dust bunny of his desk in order to redirect the blond’s attention before he delivered the blow after a feigned pause to think. “I mean, there’s Michael, but he’s not much of an asset, now, is he?”</p><p>Percy’s eyes suddenly hardened and his shoulder bristled, most likely without him even knowing it. His voice was just a touch strained as he said: “With all due respect, mister Afton, he’s one of our most capable mechanics.”</p><p>William pretended not to notice the sudden change in the shorter man’s demeanour and gave a quiet chuckle. “Come on, Colter, you don’t have to lie to me here. Between you and me, Michael’s never been much of a talent.”</p><p>“Sir, he’s probably the best we’ve got.”</p><p>“Then we should probably hire some new people, because the bar seems to be set fairly low, hm?”</p><p>Oh, the blond was positively <em>fuming</em> now. If looks could kill, William would’ve had to move out of the way or perish.</p><p>Looks like this wasn’t just a two-sided unnoticed crush after all.</p><p>“Well, that’s all I wanted to say, really,” he said, barely able to fight the smirk that was growing on his lips. “Just drop the files off before you leave, I’ll probably be staying a bit late anyway.”</p><p>Colter opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again and said: “Alright. No problem, sir.”</p><p>“Thank you, Colter.” He pointedly looked back at his paperwork. “You’re free to go.”</p><p>The blond couldn’t disappear fast enough. Just the distinct urgency with which he left was enough to draw a chuckle out of him as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t be heard.</p><p>So. That was that, then. Michael had made what was at the very least a friend who wanted to defend him, even at risk of backtalking to his CEO.</p><p>Not that the realization was something new, really. But it was good to have his suspicions confirmed.</p><p>William Afton was a lot of things, but he was not stupid. He had seen Michael give Colter a reassuring pat on the back after the night guard accident a few weeks prior with a certain look on his face that was very hard to ignore. He could read it better than the paperwork on his table: anger, anxiety, helplessness, and that overwhelming amount of worry.</p><p>Even then, William knew what that expression meant; he'd seen it on many various people through the years when he needed a string pulled, or when he wanted something someone was unwilling to give. It was a goldmine, that expression.</p><p>It meant that he had complete and utter leverage over Michael with a flick of a finger - or a knife, really - at the right person.</p><p>Henry and him made some spinoff characters at some point, when business was at its peak and they were still perfectly capable of branching out. The suits were scrapped and the idea abandoned as soon as the first wave of his experiments became known to the general public, but they were still there, somewhere, probably locked in a safe room at one location or another.</p><p>He had plenty of empty suits. Disposing of his son's little pet wouldn't be a problem.</p><p>A rational part of his mind hoped it would never come to it.</p><p>Some other hidden, rotten, unhinged part, however, made him hope with all of his heart that it would.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just to clarify; yes, the spinoff animatronics are Orville the elephant and the gang, yes, both Henry and Michael’s mother committed suicide in this AU and yes, I am very much biased towards the character of William Afton so if anyone’s bothered by me bashing him in his every appearance I am sorry and even though I probably don’t agree with your opinion it’s still valid<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Dark twist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Percy was there when Michael woke up. He always was. He would come home from his shift and no matter how bad the night had gotten, no matter how exhausted he was, he would wait for him to wake at the foot of his bed.<br/>No matter what.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright the twist here is probably obvious af but bear with me lads</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Michael?”</p><p>The brunette groaned in his sleep, opening his eyes slowly enough to not be sure whether he was actually doing it. He rolled over and was faced with the vague contour of a person by the foot of his bed.</p><p>He smiled. “You’re back.”</p><p>Percy was there when Michael woke up. He always was. He would come home from his shift and no matter how bad the night had gotten, no matter how exhausted he was, he would wait for him to wake by the foot of his bed. He couldn’t see his face in the dim lighting of the bedroom, but he was pretty sure he returned the smile he threw at him - at least he seemed to, from how he ducked his head and said: ”That I am, I suppose.”</p><p>His voice was - well, to be perfectly, it sounded like he was completely and utterly exhausted, but that wasn’t anything new.</p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>Percy didn’t answer, for a while. Michael sat up and gave him a worried look. He still couldn’t see his face.</p><p>“Percy?”</p><p>“I’m- I’m fine, Mike. Just tired.”</p><p>Well, that was a shitty excuse if he ever heard one.</p><p>Michael outstreched his arms. “Cuddle?”</p><p>Percy was very still for just a second too long before he finally came over and<span class="Apple-converted-space"> w</span>rapped his arms around Michael. The brunette returned the hug with vigor.</p><p>“Michael.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“You know I love you, right?”</p><p>Michael’s worry intensified as he hugged Percy closer. “Darling, what’s wrong?”</p><p>“Nothing,” the blond murmured against his ear in a tone that just screamed otherwise. “Nothing at all.”</p><p>“Percy...”</p><p>“Michael, I love you so much.” His voice sounded weirdly choked, and Michael finally realized what was happening.</p><p>“I love you too, darling,” he said as he reached a hand to play with Percy’s hair.</p><p>It wasn’t the first time his boyfriend had come from the night shift exhausted, terrified and lost in his thoughts. He would be out of it for hours sometimes, staring into space and touching Michael at random intervals, as if making sure he was still there. Sometimes, there came a day or two when he needed to be grounded more than the others, usually by the end of the week as the animatronics got increasingly more agressive, and those days Michael just held him and told him it was alright because it was the only thing that helped, those days.</p><p>It seemed to be one of <em>those days</em> alright.</p><p>He shushed his boyfriend in the tight embrace, pressing a kiss on top of his head and smiling at the shudder it caused. “I love you so much,” he said, and he meant it.</p><p>They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, disconnected from the world. Michael was almost about to fall asleep.</p><p>Then, his phone rang.</p><p>He groaned and tightened his hug, unwilling to let go when his boyfriend obviously needed the comfort. He was going to let it ring when Percy sighed and said: “You should probably go get that.”</p><p>He said that in such a weird way Michael couldn’t help but to frown. It wasn’t grumpy, or encouraging, or even drained of emotion as it sometimes was after a long, long night shift; it was like Percy was admitting to being guilty of some crime he didn’t commit in court, and was about to be sent to prison for life. There was no way Michael was going to leave him alone like that.</p><p>The phone kept ringing, and the brunette didn’t budge.</p><p>“Mike,” Percy said, again in that same strange tone. “Please go get that.”</p><p>“I’m not about to leave you alone like this, Percy.”</p><p>“Michael, <em>please</em>.”</p><p>The brunette frowned, but didn’t argue with his boyfriend as he reluctantly let go - he supposed it would only serve to make him more upset. He kissed him once more on the top of his head before he left the room with rushed steps in order to catch the phone.</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>Michael froze in the doorway as he looked back towards the bed and the figure that sat upon it, his face engulfed in the darkness created by the blinds.</p><p>Something was not right.</p><p>“I... I love you too, Percy.”</p><p>Something was <em>definitely</em> not right, but the phone kept ringing, and Percy asked him to answer it so he had to, so he went.</p><p>The phone was on the kitchen table where he had left it the previos night, and it was still ringing, because apparently some people had no idea what calling at inappropriate times and for an inappropriate amount of time meant. He picked it up and angrily pressed the answer button.</p><p>“Do you have any idea what hour it is-“</p><p>“Michael.”</p><p>His eyebrows rose as his annoyance drowned in confusion. “Miss Fey? What are you-“</p><p>“Just Sasha, Michael,” the manager of Freddy Fazbear’s replied quietly, voice completely emotionless. “I’m calling because you deserve to know.”</p><p>“Know what?”</p><p>“You’re close with Colter, right?” She paused, waiting for an answer. Michael was even more confused, but a surge of protectiveness washed over him at once.</p><p>“He’s my roommate. What, did he forget something at work? He came home just now and he’s completely out of it, I‘m not about to send him back.”</p><p>The manager was suddenly very quiet. Michael’s stomach turned.</p><p>“Sasha?”</p><p>“Michael, Percy died a few hours ago.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here I go again killing off characters I like for my amusement :)<br/>Wasn’t much if a twist, but eh, what can ya do?<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Holding hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pizzeria employees are entitled to their break time, Michael is whipped, and Percy is, as always, a little shit.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Holding hands is not really encouraged right now but let my OTP be cute they live in the 90s they’re gonna be fine (btw wash your hands and stay at home peeps)</p><p>EDIT: Okay AO3 is fucking with me again and for some reason this didn’t post yesterday so here you go heathens</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Oh, bugger all," Michael hissed as the wrench he had been using slipped away from the screw once again. "Who made this fucking thing?"</p><p>“I wouldn’t go around saying that, laddie.”</p><p>It took a minute for him to catch up.</p><p>"Oh. Right."</p><p>Dave only chuckled as he passed him a smaller wrench from the toolbox. “Try using less force. Usually works with these kind of things.”</p><p>Michael gave the older mechanic a nod of appreciation as he tightened the screw. It seemed to be doing a decent job of holding up the animatronic suit’s jaw now, which was more than what it was doing before. Michael counted it as a success.</p><p>Dave looked at his watch for a second. “Alright, break time,” he said as he stood from his chair opposite Michael. “You coming, lad?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Just months before he wouldn’t have even <em>considered</em> saying those words; he probably would’ve made some sort of excuse and then spent the break dismantling empty animatronics for the sake of it, or lock himself in a bathroom stall and eat his sandwich in peace while staring at the various depictions of male genitals left on the stall walls by generations of growing kids, or perhaps he would’ve even gone out to the back to sit in the sun for a little before returning to the dim, uncomfortable parts and service room with no windows to enjoy the natural daylight. Dave, bless his heart, never bothered him about it before and he wouldn’t bother him now if he chose to decline the offer. Michael liked being able to choose.</p><p>And yet, what he chose was to wander into the noisy employees only room to share his fifteen minute break with five to ten other pizzeria employees. Voluntarily, at that. Truly a change to behold.</p><p>The restaurant was having a lazy day; as he and the other mechanic made their way across the dining area he noticed there were barely any kids rumaging around and even fewer adults sharing a coffee at their tables or running after their children. It was a work day, after all, and still fairly early; the children were mostly going to start dropping in at two o’clock, at best.</p><p>“Shit, I would die for a cup coffee right now,” Dave grumbled as he opened the door to the break room. “Ya want some too?”</p><p>Michael looked around the small space. All in all, he spotted a grand total of three employees (less than usual but he wasn’t going to complain) - a cook he never spoke to, a waitress who he spoke to once and quickly realized he didn’t want to speak to her ever again, and one person who he spoke to a rather lot.</p><p>He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “Nah, I don’t need any.”</p><p>If he cared to look at Dave in that moment, he would notice how his eyes flickered between Michael and Percy for a brief second before a knowing look crossed his face. But he didn’t, so all he heard was a “suit yerself” before the older mechanic joined the cook at the coffee machine.</p><p>That left Michael free to rush at Percy.</p><p>The employee break room at Freddy’s was barely more than a walk-in closet; all it possessed was a few chairs, a calendar with panoramic shots of bridges, a single window and a door leading to the back alley of the restaurant where some people regularly went to have a smoke. There was also a wall clock, a cupboard and a table with a coffee machine on it, but that was pretty much it. Michael crossed the space between the entrance and the far-away corner Percy was sitting in in a grand total of five steps.</p><p>He dragged himself a chair and straddled it so that he was leaning over the plastic back rest. “Hello.”</p><p>The blond visibly lightened at the greeting. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”</p><p>“Ehh, Dave dragged me out of parts and service for a bit. Didn’t really want to come. I’ll go back to my cave as soon as break’s over.”</p><p>Percy gave him a knowing look that spoke volumes about how he was perfectly aware of the fact that everything Michael just said was complete and utter bullshit except for going to work after break time. He seemed to opt not to speak of it though, a small blessing.</p><p>“So,” Michael said as he slumped fowards in his chair. “How was your day?”</p><p>“Boring,” Percy replied with a subtle eye-roll Michael wouldn’t have caught if he wasn’t used to the gesture. “I mean, busy, really, but boring. You?”</p><p>“One of the spare Chica heads broke again,” Michael said with a shrug as he threw his hands over the back rest to let them sling in the air. “The spares just keep falling apart, really. No idea why we keep them.”</p><p>“Knowing Sasha? Probably tax benefits,“ Percy muttered. Michael snickered nevertheless as he swung his arms about a little.</p><p>Now, Michael was well aware of the fact that many people, including himself, saw Percy in a certain light upon meeting him for the first time. Half of the time that light just seemed to be an aura of ‘can-do-nothing-wrong’-ness, a certain air of innocence and genuineness that made you want to listen to him accompanied by the kind of restless nervous energy that came with being on your fourth cup of coffee of the day, the kind that made you blabber and laugh hysterically and move quickly enough for it to be comparable to a squirrel.</p><p>Michael was also aware of the fact that beyond that facade there laid a true embodiment of what many would call a little shit.</p><p>Therefore, he should’ve expected the move before it happened. He was swinging his arms around behind a plastic backrest, unable to be seen by anyone else in the room from the angle they were all standing in, and Percy was eyeing people in the room with the shifty energy of someone up to no good.</p><p>He should’ve expected it.</p><p>He didn’t.</p><p>Because Michael was just about to speak when suddenly, he felt a hand intertwine with his.</p><p>He froze mid-word, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as he registered the writing-calloused, warm, soft and slightly sweaty hand that was now holding his own. He looked at Percy with his mouth slightly open, only for the blond to smile innocently.</p><p>“Catching flies?” he purred, tilting his head slightly as he ran his thumb over Michael’s knuckles.</p><p>Good lord, what a bastard. Good thing Michael loved him too much to do anything about it in front of others, because he wanted to kiss the hell out of him right then and there and then slap him promptly after.</p><p>“I-“ he didn’t finish the sentence as he very nearly shuddered at the way the soft, gentle hold of his hand shifted slightly. “I saw a dog on my way to work today.”</p><p>“Oh, really?” Percy said in an intrigued tone that was nearly enough to mask the smugness that was laced through it.</p><p>“Yeah. It was a golden retriever.”</p><p>“That’s nice.”</p><p>“It reminded of you except it had brown eyes.”</p><p>“Oh did it now? Thanks for the compliment.”</p><p>God, he loved this bastard so much.</p><p>Break was over way too soon.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Was Dave a reference to Dave Miller of course self-explanitory<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Hogwarts AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>If you wander around Hogwarts’ walls on a nice afternoon, you might come across a small curve in the castle’s wall, perfect from leaning back on while enjoying some semblance of privacy.<br/>Most days you’ll find it occupied by a very specific pair of students.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just to clarify; this takes place before Harry goes to Hogwarts but after Voldemort was defeated in the early ‘80s because I don’t want to mix timelines too much<br/>I’m just generally kinda weak for Harry Potter AUs to be perfectly honest</p><p>EDIT: Okay so apparently I am a complete and utter dumbass and have posted this on the wrong day because I mixed up Holding hands with Hogwarts AU SOMEHOW but I have no idea how to undo it and therefore you shall get day 20 on day 19, I apologize for the inconvenience and I will fix it when I get the actual day 19 out</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You know those days?</p><p>You know those days when the weather is like a personification of a smile and it’s a Friday or a Saturday and you can have a free afternoon with no feeling guilty required and you’re allowed to bask in the beautiful weather outside just for the sake of it, and also there’s something in the air, something completely unique to sunny, happy days such as them, a smell that you know but can’t identify but it doesn’t matter because it’s a perfectly perfect smell anyway?</p><p>You know those days?</p><p>Well, Percy certainly did, probably because he was living one at the moment.</p><p>He gave a content sigh as he made his way out of the castle. A small breeze rustled past him as he walked down next to Hogwarts’ massive wall and away from the general crowd of sixth year students that was pouring outside after him, probably to likewise enjoy the rest of the Friday away from the rustle that was the school. The noise of his fellow students faded into the background the more he walked and ended completely when he stopped at a small curve in the castle’s wall overlooking the lake.</p><p>For a second, Percy was content to just gaze into the distance like a lead character from a soap opera, smiling lightly as he waited for nothing in particular to happen.</p><p>Okay, that was a lie, because he was in fact waiting for something <em>very</em> specific to happen.</p><p>He looked down at his watch, frowned a little, and then looked back up.</p><p>And then he smiled.</p><p>“Tell me, is being a massive show-off a standard requirment to be on the Quidditch team or is it just you?”</p><p>“You wound me, Percy. This isn’t showing off.”</p><p>“No, it’s just completely non-consequently <em>hanging off a broom</em>.”</p><p>“See? Couldn’t have said it better myself.”</p><p>Percy rolled his eyes fondly. “You’re insufferable.”</p><p>Michael, hanging off of a broomstick by his legs so that his entire torso and hands were dangling in the air, gave him an innocent smile. “You love it and you know it.”</p><p>The blond smirked back and sat down onto the grass, leaning onto the castle’s wall with his back. Michael non-chalantly pulled himself upwards (and damn were those muscles at work a sight to behold) before he dismounted the broom and plopped next to the Hufflepuff with a satisfied grunt.</p><p>“Good practice, I take it?” Percy asked as he shuffled closer to his boyfriend.</p><p>“Very,” Michael said, leaning on his shoulder in the lazy manner that screamed of how the weekend was just starting. “Jake had us work our collective assess off. I think my arm’s gone numb.”</p><p>“Oh, you poor, <em>poor</em> dear,” Percy said with a pout as he pressed a gentle kiss to the other’s cheek.</p><p>“I know!” his Ravenclaw exclaimed with mock offense. “The match against Hufflepuff is, like, in a month and we’re already training like it’s tomorrow! I can only smack the Bludger so many times before it eventually smacks <em>me</em>!”</p><p>“And what a crying shame that would be.”</p><p>“I mean, it’s not like we can get any better,” Michael said, voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “We’re going to whoop Hufflepuff’s ass anyways.”</p><p>Percy knew a provocation when he heard one. That was probably why he grabbed it with both hands.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know, Mikey. You might have Fitzgeral playing as Seeker, but we have <em>Smith</em>.”</p><p>Michael huffed in disbelief. “<em>Please</em>. That guy?”</p><p>“He brought down two of yours last match in a single minute.”</p><p>“Luck. Nothing else.”</p><p>“And he has really good aim.”</p><p>“Not really. Average.”</p><p>“And he’s <em>so</em> devilishly handsome-“</p><p>“Okay now you’re just being <em>mean</em>.”</p><p>Percy broke his serious mask in favour of giggling lightly, followed close by the Ravenclaw as he was pulled into a tight, cuddling embrace.</p><p>“Someone could see,” Percy muttered against the other’s robes.</p><p>“Oh, just let them,” Michael replied. ”Everyone can see for all I care. No one’s gonna judge, we’re not Muggles.”</p><p>“My parents are Muggles, love.”</p><p>“Oh- Oh yeah, right. Sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t be.”</p><p>They fell into a comfortable, soft silence, the birds chirping from the forbidden forest and voices from the castle’s halls carrying over to the backyard they settled in. It was a nice Friday afternoon, it was still sunny, it was bright and full of life and it was overall a perfect place for two sixth-years to have a nice, long snogging session, away from the rustle and bustle of the castle in their own little private corner.</p><p>And so they did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have this headcanon that as long as you’re not a pureblood wizards do not care if you’re gay because this is JK we’re talking about and if she’s going to make Dumbledore gay after writing the book then I’m gonna make two completely unrelated characters be openly gay at Hogwarts goddamnit<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Scar worship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Percy’s recent very close brush with death had some consequences and he’s not exactly... okay with them.<br/>Meanwhile, Michael can’t wrap his head around why Percy’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans in the middle of summer.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Get ready for that hurt/comfort lads<br/>Also, concerning chapter 20; I have no idea what had happened but apparently AO3’s showing me it’s supposed to be BEFORE the Hogwarts AU so sure?? I guess?? I honestly don’t know anymore</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael thought he was going to melt.</p><p>He honestly thought he was going to melt and he was slowly starting to realize that he wasn’t joking about it anymore.</p><p>He was trying to read a book on the couch for the last half an hour or so and he was failing miserably at it. He re-read the same sentence for the third time in a row, interrupted yet again by a small trickle of sweat that made its way down his nose.</p><p>“Oh bugger all,” he said as he wiped the droplet away before he decidedly threw off his soaked shirt to let it rest over the cushion on the far end of the couch. Twix gave him a disgusted stare from across the room which he elected to not bother registering. The lack of a shirt didn’t make the pulsing heat much better, but it was something, at least.</p><p>He tried to go back to his book when he heard footsteps walk into the room. “I made us some ice water,” Percy said and Michael heard what sounded like a jug and two glasses (or what he hoped sounded like a jug and two glasses, as jugs and glasses do not typically make a whole lot of noise) being placed on the coffee table. Instantaneously, Twix meowed loudly from his corner, and then there was the unmistakable pitter-pattter of cat paws across the carpet. Percy sighed deeply before content purring filled the room. Michael smiled to himself and looked up.</p><p>Then, his jaw promptly fell open.</p><p>Percy gave him a worried look from where he was petting Twix on the belly, as if he had no reason for shock despite the fact that his boyfriend was wearing a <em>long-sleeved shirt</em> and <em>jeans</em> on what was probably the <em>hottest day of the year</em>. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“Am- Am <em>I</em> okay?!” the brunette exclaimed quite loudly, making Twix roll over and stalk back to his spot. “Percy, you‘re wearing more layers than a bloody onion! I get hot just <em>looking</em> at you!”</p><p>The blond seemed slightly taken aback, as if he had hoped Michael wouldn’t notice just how overdressed he was (a hopeless hope, frankly), but somehow still managed to muster up a bitchy response because that was simply how Percy was: “I’ll take that as an absolute <em>compliment</em>.”</p><p>“Rest assured, it isn’t.”</p><p>If Michael felt like he was melting, then Percy looked like he was straight-up ablaze in an oven. The clothes did nothing to hide the dark patches of sweat that bled through - they helped even less when the scarce areas of skin that weren’t buried underneath took a disturbing shade of pink as if slightly burnt. He wasn’t showing it, but Percy was just as hot as Michael was - both figuratively and physically, in Michael’s eyes, but currently the physical side was the most concerning and prevailing one.</p><p>Percy, ignoring the issue as usual, poured them both a glass of the ice water. “Here you go,” he said, handing him a glass. “Drink up - the ice is going to melt.”</p><p>“The- the <em>ice</em>-“ Michael threw his hands in the air before remembering he had a glass of liquid in one of them. “You’re dressed like a polar bear in the middle of summer and what you’re worried about is that the <em>ice</em> is going to melt?!”</p><p>Percy gave him an unimpressed look as he plopped next to him on the couch, but the brunette didn’t miss the way he slumped over the cushion as if exhausted from a long day at work even though it was a Saturday and they had spent the whole day inside their flat. The blond took a long swig of his water before proclaiming: “I-I don’t understand why you’re making such a big fuss out of it, Mikey.”</p><p>“I don’t understand how you can even wear a long-sleeved shirt in this weather!” Michael whined as he leaned towards the coffee table to place down his book, coming to the conclusion that he was not going to finish it today. “Just take it off, I don’t want you dying from heatstroke right after you make it out of the homicidal teddy bear place.”</p><p>He didn’t get an answer.</p><p>Something told him to look back at his boyfriend.</p><p>Percy was still slumped over the couch, curled into himself in the unavoidable manner that comes with slumping in the heat. There was nothing particularly odd about that, in a way, or there wouldn’t be if the blond wasn’t clutching the fabric of his shirt so desperately his knuckles turned white.</p><p>“...Percy?” he said, voice immediately shifting to a concerned one as he reached out a hand to place on the other’s shoulder. He hissed in sympathy when he sensed the heat coming off in waves from underneath the fabric. “Jesus Christ, you’re <em>burning</em>. How about we take this shirt off, and-“</p><p>“No!”</p><p>Michael would be lying if he said the cry didn’t startle him, but he would be lying even more if he said he wasn’t just a smidge hurt when Percy pulled back from the hand he had placed on his shoulder. However, that didn’t matter right now - not even slightly when he realized that Percy’s movements, sluggish as they were from the heat, were increasingly similar to shivering. When the other spoke, Michael simply couldn’t understand the words he was saying because they were too fastly spoken: “I’m... I’m just not- not-“</p><p>It was like he didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Michael genuinely started to look him over for any additional signs of a stroke, but aside from the babbling there were none, so the more likely verdict was that there was something his boyfriend was not telling him - either about the heat, or about why he didn’t want to dress appropriately for the weather, he didn’t know.</p><p>“Percy, what’s wrong?” he asked as gently as he could. Then he realized the question was probably not going to get a truthful answer and changed it, saying: “Why are you so scared of taking your clothes off?”</p><p>Percy almost jumped at the sentance. <em>Bingo</em>.</p><p>“I- I’m not-“</p><p>“Percy, you’re a shit liar.”</p><p>Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Michael forgot entirely about the heat engulfing him now, as there was still something left over from the terror a few months ago in his mind - the underlying panic at the prospect of losing Percy, of not being able to see him ever again. Though there was no danger of that happening physically, there was still the underlying threat that lay in Percy’s wide, absent eyes that made Michael’s stomach clench, and he was damned if he lost Percy ever again.</p><p>The silence, just like the heat, went on and on. For a moment, Michael wondered whether or not Percy was going to speak at all before he heard a loud, shaky exhale from the blond.</p><p>“I- I don’t want to... I don’t want to look at the- <em>them</em>.”</p><p>The brunette’s jaw tightened. <em>Oh</em>.</p><p>“I- It’s silly, isn’t it,” Percy continued, still curled up into himself. The heat seemed to have loosened his tongue as words flew from his mouth like he had wanted to say them for a long, long time. “It’s been- months, r-right. And I still- I just- Every time I look in the mirror, I see them, and I can’t look away, because they remind me of<em> t-that</em> place and I can’t look away, but I want to, but sometimes I feel like they still hurt but that’s silly because scars shouldn’t be able to hurt but sometimes I ca-can feel the-the <em>wires</em> and I can’t help it, and i-it’s easy, to hide them, it’s b-been easy but even when we’re- uh, when we’re <em>alone</em>, and, you know, when we- <em>you know</em>, even then I can’t relax, because you can see them, and you can see them and they’re just not right because- because I’m <em>not</em>, I try to be but I’m really not.”</p><p>Michael couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he would explode if he didn’t do something to end this, to stop that guilty expression on Percy’s face, as if he was being a bother or self-pitying himself for no reason because that wasn’t true and they both knew it, he nearly <em>died</em>, it was a miracle he wasn’t <em>more</em> fucked up with the way Michael found him that morning.</p><p>That was why he pulled Percy by the nape towards himself, ignoring the way the skin underneath his fingers made him feel even warmer, and kissed him on the lips. They started off slow and soft and that seemed to do the trick because in a matter of seconds the blond’s tense posture began to unwind, his shaking hands clinging to Michael like he was a sad little koala in need of comfort while the brunette’s own travelled down to bury themselves underneath Percy’s shirt and drift over the hot, sweat-soaked skin, registering the little flinch of the blond’s back.</p><p>Michael pulled away for a brief minute, because no matter how long he had known Percy for, he was in no way a therapist or anyone qualified to deal with these kind of problems, and usually just asking was the best day to make sure whether or not what he wanted to do would actually help or just fuck things up even more: “Can I take off your shirt, darling?”</p><p>He purposefully leaned back, slipping his hands from underneath the shirt and shifting his weight slightly away from Percy, both to show him that he could back out at any minute and also to have a better look at the smaller man’s expression.</p><p>Percy’s eyes were closed shut and his hands dug into him additionally as he seemed to think it through. He gave a brisk, uncertain nod.</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>He could fuck this up <em>really</em> hard. He had to be absolutely certain what he was doing was okay with his boyfriend, because honestly he didn’t even know what he was doing. He was guided entirely by instinct and emotions and that was a dangerous combination if there ever was one.</p><p>Percy nodded again. His eyes were still shut.</p><p>“Okay,” Michael whispered, taking a moment and a hand to reassuringly pet Percy’s hair before he gently removed his glasses, folding them and dropping them on the coffee table for safe-keeping. His movements were slow, predictable - he felt like he was tending to a wounded stray cat rather than his boyfriend.</p><p>“Arms up,” he muttered, desperately trying not to scare Percy away. The blond in question shivered but did as he was told, leaving Michael free to slip his shirt away from the over-heated body.</p><p>He never took the time to properly observe the many ways in which Percy’s body was marked from his last week on the night shift - at the time, he was way too happy to consider it, and afterwards he was just immediately ignorant to it, as if it were a new normal. However, now that he was really doing this, he took his time to take in every line of raised, white skin over Percy’s chest. They were perfectly symetrical from top to bottom, safe for the fact that one of his outstretched arms was scarred and the other wasn’t, long-healed cuts and burns from disconnected wires littering his body. The scars disappeared just above Percy’s belt, but he knew that if he dared to look he’d find similar ones across his legs.</p><p>He vaguely realized with a shudder that he could pin-point the exact locations of where the suit was supposed to hook into the endoskeleton.</p><p>The animatronics have killed so many in this way. It was simple dumb luck that saved the blond - luck and the fact that they didn’t seem to have time to put the suit completely in place in order for it to properly clamp down and crush him into an unrecognizable blob of flesh. And yet, even though he was so close to death, he was here now, shivering underneath him as he leaned forward, eyes still closed.</p><p>“You’re beautiful,” he muttered against the other’s neck. “You’re just so goddamn beautiful, you know that?”</p><p>Percy’s face scrunched up, as if in protest, but he didn’t answer. Michael didn’t need him to.</p><p>He pressed a soft kiss against the crook of Percy’s neck where the first scar started. “You,” he pressed another over the exact same location, “are,” and another, “so,” and another, “goddamn,” and another and another just underneath it, “<em>brave</em>.”</p><p>Percy shuddered, and Michael took it as an invitation to run his hands all over the other’s marked skin, taking the time to worship every single scar with gentle kisses and whispers of affection towards the person who carried them. At some point he flipped him over to repeat the process on the blond’s back.</p><p>The heat that engulfed them from all sides was all but forgotten.</p><p>“You’re so <em>strong</em>, you’re so <em>strong</em> and <em>brave</em> and <em>gorgeous</em> and I love you,” Michael whispered into Percy’s ear as his fingers circled a burn mark left behind by a wire, being rewarded by a shaky exhale which he cut off before it could form into a protest against the praise. “I’m so lucky to have you, I swear, you make everything so much better and you’re so good and <em>fuck</em>, Percy, I love you, I love you so much I feel like I might <em>die</em> from it one day because you’re <em>everything</em> and you’ll always <em>be</em> my everything and I just love you <em>so much</em>, and no matter what happens to you or to us I will always be as in love with you as I was the first day I saw you.”</p><p>It wasn’t okay. Not yet.</p><p>It will be, though.</p><p>It wasn’t okay, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to make it so.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just some guys being dudes what can I say<br/>Also Michael’s a good boyfriend change my mind<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Dealing with children</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Percy didn't know what exactly he was doing before he heard the small cry from under one of the tables in the party room. It didn't matter much, all things considered, because there was still the fact that there was very much definitely still a small cry from under one of the tables in the party room.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning for references to past and present child abuse in this one, approach with caution if the topic makes you uncomfortable<br/>That being said - thank you all so much for all the support so far, I’ve said this before but I feel like it’s worth pointing out that I would probably take a bullet for y’all by this point</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Percy didn't know what exactly he was doing before he heard the small cry from under one of the tables in the party room.</p><p>Knowing the hour and that he was in his jacket already, he supposed he must've been getting ready to leave. The bubbling feeling in his stomach encouraged the idea - Michael had moved in with him a couple of weeks ago but damn it still gave him butterflies to think about the fact that his boyfriend wasn't just dropping him off from work, he was driving them <em>both</em> home. Perhaps he was just wandering around, waiting for the brunette to get ready. Perhaps he was going to fetch something from his locker. He genuinely didn't know.</p><p>It didn't matter much, all things considered, because there was still a small cry from below one of the tables.</p><p>He turned so quickly his shoes squeaked on the tiled floor. "Hello?" After he got no response safe for a distant silence of an emptying restaurant, he called out again. "Uh, hello hello?"</p><p>Another sob, louder this time. He could pinpoint it came from the table closest to his right.</p><p>He tried to make his footsteps as soft and obvious as possible in order to not scare whoever was hiding underneath the plastic tablecloth. He mustered up his softest voice: "Hey there."</p><p>No response. Right.</p><p>Percy looked towards the direction of the break room to find no sight of Michael yet. He sighed and redirected his eyes back to the table and he could just feel his worry morph into protectiveness as soon as he heard another small sniffle from behind the polka dot patterned plastic tablecloth.</p><p>"Don't be scared," he said as he crouched down to kneel on the floor. He didn't move to try and touch the child - because by then it was fairly obvious that it was one - but he did move his head a little bit lower in order to peek underneath the plastic sheet. "I'm-"</p><p>He caught a glimpse of a small, chocolate brown eye, filled with what looked way too much like tears to not be tears. Percy's heart clenched and he raised a hand slowly-</p><p>He heard a terrified whimper, and then small fingers started scrambling on the black-and-white tile in the general direction of <em>away from him</em>.</p><p>"Hey hey hey, it's alright! It's alright!" he said, voice climbing as his surprise settled in. He raised his hands to show them to the vast darkness that was the underside of the table. "It's okay, I'm not here to hurt you." He frantically looked around before he grabbed the fabric of his shirt that had Fazbear's logo on its breast pocket to show it off, even though he didn't know who it was for. "See?"</p><p>The kid didn't respond, but the scrambling noises stopped, which Percy supposed was a good sign. He slumped back.</p><p>Percy had always been good with kids. He didn't know how it happened, considering that he had no desire to have one of his own and that he was about as ecstatic about children as the next guy - he just sort of attracted them, in a sense, as if the little buggers looked at the short blond guy standing awkwardly in the corner and went 'ah, yes, now <em>that's</em> someone worth talking to'.</p><p>Perhaps it was the fact that kids seemed to gravitate towards authority figures as they grew up, even a pizzeria employee. Perhaps it was simply his appearance, somehow, though he wouldn't be able to tell what it was that did the trick. Perhaps it was his enthustiastic time-to-time rambling that reminded children of their peers. Who knows, really?</p><p>(It was the rambling.)</p><p>Anyhow, somehow, he was quite alright with children. That was the point, but the point was also that he had no idea how to actually <em>deal</em> with children, because usually kids just sort of came up to him and started talking, not the other way around. Improvisation would be definitely needed, and also some hope that he didn't manage to fuck this up even more than he already had.</p><p>“Uh, you alright?”</p><p>He nearly facepalmed as soon as the words left his mouth.</p><p>
  <em>Really? The kid’s hiding under a party table and crying and the restaurant is closed and there are no adults looking for their child and all you can think up is ‘are you alright’? Of course they’re not alright. You moron. You bumbling buffoon. You utter clown.</em>
</p><p>“N-No,” a small, distinctly female voice said, breaking the silence and Percy’s internal monologue. For a moment he was happy the kid actually answered before he realized what she had just said.</p><p>“Oh,” he said, intelligently. He cleared his throat awkwardly and spoke again: “Kid... where are your parents?”</p><p>The faint contour of the child stiffened in the darkness and decidedly didn’t answer. Percy had no idea what to take away from that, but he supposed it wasn’t anything particularly useful.</p><p>“Uh,” he said, “were they- here? With you? Or did you come with friends? A brother maybe? Sister? Cousin?”</p><p>No response.</p><p>Okay then.</p><p>Change of topic.</p><p>“Hey, do- do you have a favourite animatronic?”</p><p>The little figure’s head seemed to move in the darkness. The chocolate eyes were looking at him once again, wide and surprised. Percy stayed silent, to afraid to break the invisible connection that was whatever that reaction was. She blinked once or twice, still maintaining eye contact.</p><p>Then, the little voice spoke again: “F-Foxy.”</p><p>Percy smiled encouragingly with slight surprise at the coincidence. “No way, mine too!”</p><p>The eyes widened. “R-Really?”</p><p>“Really really.” He paused for a second before continuing: “What do you like about him?”</p><p>The child seemed to think the question through before she answered, slightly less shaky than before but still limited to typical child-talk that took Percy a few second to fully understand: “He’s a fox. I-I like foxies.” She inhaled shakily, as if steadying herself. “A-And he’s a pirate.”</p><p>“You like pirates?”</p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p>“That’s nice. I like pirates too.”</p><p>“Y-You do?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Mo-Molly doesn’t like p-pirates. She says they’re stupid.”</p><p>“Well, Molly can think what she wants, but if you like them they‘re not stupid, right?”</p><p>A pause, as if the kid was thinking it over.</p><p>“...I-I like Foxy’s stories.”</p><p>“Really? Which one do you like best?”</p><p>“The-The one with the bear.”</p><p>“The Great Mystery of the Golden Island?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Percy was about to give the kid a follow-up question, ask her about a character from the story or Foxy or something or the other when suddenly, a pair of footsteps entered the room, and a very familiar voice asked: “Percy, what are you doing there?”</p><p>Immediately, the blond heard the girl give a quick gasp and shuffle away just slightly. He wanted to punch Michael for a second, but he could never do that, so he just raised his hands in a pacifying gesture and said: “Hey, don’t worry, he’s my... my friend, yeah? It’s okay.”</p><p>Michael’s face scrunched up in confusion before realization dawned on it. He stopped in his tracks to stand a little behind Percy. They were all silent for a while before Michael spoke, much more softly than before: “Hello there.”</p><p>The little girl sniffed. “H-Hi.”</p><p>Michael gave a brief look around the room before he crouched down next to Percy, keeping his distance. “Where are your parents, kid?”</p><p>The girl didn’t answer immediately. Percy didn’t expect her to answer at all and was just about to start asking questions about animatronics again before he heard her start talking and shut his mouth as quickly as humanely possible.</p><p>“Mo-Mommy doesn’t want to see me,” the kid whispered, voice as choked as it was when she first spoke.</p><p>Percy’s eyebrow raised as he looked at Michael. He seemed to be just as taken off-guard when he spoke: “I’m sure that- I’m sure she’s really worried about you, kid.”</p><p>"But- But she said she-she doesn’t want to see m-me,” the kid whimpered. Before any of them could comment, more words tumbled out of her mouth. “Sh-She said I should... I should get los-lost, and now I’m lo-lo-lost, so I-I’m doin’ it right... right?”</p><p>Percy inhaled sharply and gave Michael a side-glance. The brunette didn't even seemed to notice - he appeared to be somewhat frozen in time, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.</p><p>Percy, as much as he wished he didn't, knew why.</p><p>He knew <em>exactly</em> why.</p><p>“Percy, why don’t you go bring the car around?” Michael muttered to him as he slowly dug into his pocket. He handed him the car keys and the blond took them with no resistance. “We’ll come after you in a bit.”</p><p>“Mike, are you-“</p><p>“Just do it, please?”</p><p>Percy was always the one that was better with children.</p><p>Sometimes, however, in fairly specific times in even more specific places, he could do nothing but let Michael handle it.</p><p>“Alright,” he said as he stood from the cold floor, taking the room in one more time before he gulped and said: “I’ll-I’ll just. I’ll go. See you later.”</p><p>The fact that Michael didn’t respond at all spoke volumes.</p><p>He nearly ran to the parking lot, his throat uncomfortably tight. He kept sneaking glances towards the restaurant even though he knew he shouldn’t expect anyone to come out of it anytime soon, or at least anyone who mattered.</p><p>His driving skills were slightly rusty, but eventually he managed to start the car and bring it over next to the entrance. He turned it off and drummed his fingers nervously on the steering wheel.</p><p>It took another fifteen minutes for Michael to come outside. He wasn’t alone.</p><p>Holding his hand was a small child who looked around six or seven at best. He recognized her chocolate eyes immediately, accompanied by same-coloured hair now that she was outisde and in the light. She was wearing a blue overall and a pink t-shirt, stained at the collar from what he assumed was both snot and tears. But there was one very prominent feature which he could only see because it was still light outside.</p><p>There was a dark purple circle surrounding the child’s left eye.</p><p>Percy’s fingers clenched.</p><p>“In you go,” Michael said with a voice so comforting and soft Percy barely recognized it as his boyfriend opened the backseat door. The girl looked at him nervously but climbed inside and let him fasten his seatbelt gently.</p><p>Percy would’ve said something about how her parents should’ve taught her about stranger danger, but from the way Michael yanked open the passenger door and the haunted, rage-filled and terribly deja-vu like expression on his face, he opted not to. He didn’t even ask about it - he didn’t need to.</p><p>“Where to?”</p><p>“The police station.”</p><p>He started the car and drove without a word.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Don’t worry, the kid ends up being fine and gets taken in by her estranged aunt. I hope that scenario makes everything just a bit better<br/>Also yeah William Afton wasn’t the best dad have I ever mentioned that?<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Fighting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Being subjected to one’s most deep-rooted fears tends to bring the worst out of people.<br/>Or, Percy has a nightmare. Neither of the boys take it well.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter gets Messy(TM)<br/>Aka I’d imagine that a past abuse victim and a traumatized worker in a deadly field being in a relationship sometimes doesn’t work out in the best possible way (or godd why do I torture my boys like this they don’t deserve this shit)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>there's laughter</em>
</p><p>
  <em>he knows there's laughter because it's the only thing he can hear</em>
</p><p>
  <em>there's a smell of something in the air and it's blood and it's his blood he knows it's his blood and the door to the backstage is slightly ajar and no no nOnoNONONONONOTTHEREANYWHEREBUTTHEREPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE</em>
</p><p>"Percy?"</p><p>
  <em>and that's Michael voice and his throat clenches because no, Michael isn't supposed to be here they'll get him too he has to run oh god he has to run because otherwise he'll die, just like</em>
</p><p>
  <em>just like hIM</em>
</p><p>"Percy, snap out of it!"</p><p>
  <em>but</em>
</p><p>
  <em>but I'm not</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Michael can't be</em>
</p><p>
  <em>he can't</em>
</p><p>
  <em>it's</em>
</p><p>
  <em>it's not</em>
</p><p>"Percy, wake up!"</p><p>
  <em>this isn't</em>
</p><p>
  <em>this</em>
</p><p>
  <em>is</em>
</p><p>
  <em>n't r</em>
</p><p>
  <em>eal</em>
</p><p>
  <em>th</em>
</p><p>
  <em>is isn't</em>
</p><p>
  <em>real this</em>
</p><p>
  <em>is</em>
</p><p>
  <em>n't r</em>
</p><p>
  <em>eal</em>
</p><p>
  <em>this</em>
</p><p>
  <em>isn't</em>
</p><p>"Percy? PERCY!"</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>THIS ISN'T REAL.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Percy's eyes snapped open and he lurched himself into a sitting position in a panic. He barely registered how shaky and loud his breathing was, or how his heart was thumping with the speed of a race horse, or how his face was strangely wet, or how he was shivering all over.</p><p>He barely registered it because the only thing he <em>could</em> register was a familiar face, leaning over him.</p><p>"Holy shit," Michael said, his voice just as breathless as Percy himself was. "Holy <em>shit</em>."</p><p>Percy didn't respond. He didn't feel like he could.</p><p>The dark figure of his boyfriend uncertainly reached over to put a warm hand on his shoulder. He was still trembling slightly and it only intensified when he felt the hand's pressure, but there was something in his mind that made the tense muscles relax immediately after.</p><p>
  <em>Safe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You're safe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It wasn’t real.</em>
</p><p>"I-I'm fine," he said, unconvincingly, even to his own ears. The outline was quiet, and then it sighed in a weary, tired way and reached over to turn on the bedside lamp.</p><p>The blurry silhouette became a bit more focused in the dim light as he was greeted by a full view of his boyfriend. His brown hair was as messy as usual, individual locks hanging over his concerned eyes.</p><p>Overall, a welcome sight.</p><p>
  <em>You're safe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You're safe.</em>
</p><p>"So, would you mind telling me why you were screaming in your sleep? Again?"</p><p>
  <em>Or not.</em>
</p><p>Percy shifted uncomfortably under the pressure of Michael's hand, suddenly feeling scrunitized despite not knowing why.</p><p>"It- It was nothing special," he answered, finally getting the hang of speaking and reading the situation. He was even present enough to register that he wasn't fully lying about it; the nightmares were a common thing by now, so they were, in fact, nothing special.</p><p>Michael, to his great misfortune, gave him and entirely unconvinced 'bitch, <em>please</em>' look. He scowled as he spoke: "For fuck's sake, Percy, you can't go from screaming your lungs out to ignoring that anything had happened at all." He was growling more than speaking, voice still slightly sleepy but with an undertone that made Percy shrink back and shift to cover up more of his body with the sheets.</p><p>Maybe, if he was more awake, he would’ve put two and two together and backed down.</p><p>Instead, he did the thing he <em>knew </em>Michael hated, because he wasn’t awake enough to realize it was a stupid thing to do.</p><p>"It's r-really nothing," he said and even forced a smile to make his point. "You-You worry too much."</p><p>Downplaying.</p><p>Michael <em>hated </em>downplaying.</p><p>Just when he realized that maybe, just <em>maybe</em> that was the wrong thing to say, then, Michael positively <em>exploded</em>.</p><p>"I <em>worry</em> too much? I <em>worry</em> too <em>much</em>?! Well, I'm <em>very</em> sorry for <em>worrying</em> about your fucking ass when you start <em>crying</em> in your sleep, very much <em>sorry</em>, it won’t happen again-“</p><p>“Michael, that’s not what I meant.”</p><p>“Then what did you mean, huh?! That I should just stop caring that you have nightmares <em>every fucking night</em>?! Maybe that I should stop caring that you’re playing the silently suffering victim?!”</p><p>Something ugly reared its head in Percy’s chest. It was something that never would’ve been there if he wasn’t underslept, still panicked and increasingly frustrated, but it was there as he growled out: “Don’t you fucking <em>dare</em> go there, Michael.” He grabbed Michael’s hand on his shoulder and pushed it away before he threw the covers off of himself and made a move to get up.</p><p>“Where are you going?”</p><p>“Getting dressed,” he said without looking back. “My shift probably starts soon-“</p><p>“It’s ten o’clock, Percy-“</p><p>“Just let me <em>go</em>-“</p><p>“I’m not about to ignore how you’re doing the martyr spiel again-“</p><p>“Stop saying it like I’m not doing this for the both of us-“</p><p>“So that you’ll fucking <em>die</em>?!”</p><p>“So that they’ll leave us alone!”</p><p>“They’re not <em>going</em> to!”</p><p>They weren’t even trying to keep their voices down. They were probably going to get a noise complaint. Percy was standing just above the bed and Michael was sitting on it and they were both yelling way too loudly for the hour.</p><p>Percy <em>really</em> didn’t care.</p><p>“Don’t you <em>trust</em> me?”</p><p>“Don’t you pull out the trust card on me, you know <em>very</em> fucking well-“</p><p>“I just have one more week to go!”</p><p>“Well you could die any day of it!”</p><p>“I’m not-“</p><p>“You can’t know that-“</p><p>”Michael-“</p><p>”How can you be so <em>stupid</em>-“</p><p>“JUST SHUT <em>UP</em>!”</p><p>Percy didn’t mean to roar the words out like he did. He probably wouldn’t have even realized he had if he didn’t see Michael jump back as if burnt. He was too swept up in the dangerous cocktail of emotions that had been bubbling inside of him all month; a mixture of anger, of guilt and shame, of doubt in himself and of doubt in the animatronics, and of fear, of so many <em>brands</em> of fear he could barely distinguish them, overlapping between the fear of dying, the fear of retaliation if he quit, the fear of leaving Michael, the fear of Michael being alone, there was so much <em>fear</em> he couldn’t handle it.</p><p>He realized a tad too late that the fact didn’t excuse the stricken expression on his boyfriend’s face.</p><p>“Michael...”</p><p>He didn’t know what to say. What could he say?</p><p>They looked at each other in complete silence. Percy almost began to wonder whether or not Michael had fallen asleep with his eyes open when the brunette broke the tense quiet that settled around them. "It's just that...”</p><p>His voice was quiet. It was so quiet it couldn’t be anything else but scared. Percy’s stomach clenched.</p><p>“You're- You’re having more and more of these. Almost every night. Your screaming's getting worse, too. Yesterday Mrs Fleming from next door came knocking after you left to ask if we were okay," Michael whispered, arms wrapped around his knees in a defensive position. "When was the last time you actually slept without having a nightmare? When was the last time you came from work without looking like someone had killed you? When was the last time I could let you go to work without wondering whether you’ll come back at <em>all</em>?”</p><p>Percy didn’t respond. He didn’t have anything to respond with until eventually, he said: “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>Silence. And then-</p><p>He was caught off guard when suddenly, the other launched foward from the edge of the bed and wrapped his hands around his waist to pull him into a hug. He stiffened slightly, so the brunette relaxed his grip, but he didn't let go.</p><p>"W-what are you-"</p><p>"Stay with me," his boyfriend whispered as he dragged him back to bed, throwing a sheet over them. “Please. You have enough time left until you have to go. Please stay with me.”</p><p>Percy stared at him for a while before he turned off the lamp, letting Michael curl up against his back.</p><p>When Percy’s alarm started to blare an hour later, they were both sleeping.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And to think that I originally wanted to make them have an argument about laundry<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Pets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which a cat is (badly) harmed, a Percy is nowhere to be found, and a Michael’s day gets very much ruined.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Goddamn I had to up the rating from Teen to Mature because of this chapter, so consider this a fair warning<br/>This one gets really messy and could probably be disturbing for some viewers for reasons of graphic animal death, gore and just blood in general. Please, if any of the topics make you uncomfortable, you are free to skip this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael's footsteps echoed through the empty corridors of the aparment complex as he ran up the stairs.</p><p>Actually, running would be the wrong word to describe what he was doing.</p><p>He was straight up <em>throwing</em> himself upwards on blocks of stairs, skipping three steps at a time, stomping on every other one and turning corners by skidding around the stair ramp as if he was drifting with a car. He was panting already, and he was sweaty and gross and tired and he still had two floors to go, but inside, he was <em>glowing</em>.</p><p>He clutched the plastic file he held under his arm closer to his heaving chest, as if to make sure it was still there, that it was still real, and it <em>was</em> and it made him giddy.</p><p>All those years. All those years he spent watching from the background, unable to do shit.</p><p>And now, there it was.</p><p>One more floor to go.</p><p>Ten more stairs to go.</p><p>Two more stairs to go.</p><p>One more hallway to go.</p><p>He fumbled with his keys for a moment before he leaned on the doorhandle and realized it was unlocked. Of course it was - it was Percy’s day off and he was expecting him to come home soon, of course it was going to be unlocked, god he couldn’t stop <em>smiling</em>-</p><p>“Percy!” he yelled as he slammed the door open, unable to contain himself. “Percy, I’ve found- I’ve found blueprints for the funtime animatronics! We were right, they were built to- to <em>kidnap</em> <em>children</em>, and they have William <em>all over them</em>-“</p><p>He made his way down the hall, blubbering excitedly as he shut the door behind him. He didn’t even stop to kick his shoes off as he spoke, gesturing wildly with the file and smiling like a maniac: “We can- We can <em>do</em> something, Percy! We can get William arrested! We finally have <em>proof</em>, and he can’t refute proof like this, he <em>can’t</em>, we <em>have</em> him! Finally, he can- <em>we</em> can-“</p><p>He drifted off as his nose wrinkled.</p><p>He didn’t notice it when he first burst through the door, but now that he sensed it he couldn’t stop smelling it because it was too strong. He sniffed again and there it was, wafting through the flat like morning fog, consuming his senses for a good while as he tried not to gag.</p><p>“God, Percy, what are you <em>doing</em>?” he said, cluthcing the file as he made his way deeper into the apartment, searching for both the source of the smell and his boyfriend.</p><p>That was when he realized.</p><p>Percy hasn’t answered.</p><p>He had been yelling his lungs out through the entire apartment for a solid half of a minute, and he had shut the door in a very much not-kind way, and he even stomped all the way up the stairs. He made his presence about as subtle as a foghorn, and yet-</p><p>“Percy?” he called out to the apartment. No answer.</p><p>Something clenched in his chest. He was pretty sure it was his heart.</p><p>“Percy, this isn’t funny,” he said as he walked further through the flat and past the living room, taking in the empty couch and turned-off television and the lack of a cat lounging on either of them. He rounded the corner to step into the kitchen. “Per-“</p><p>He was caught off as soon as he took a breath, because holy shit the kitchen was <em>reeking</em>.</p><p>He coughed and gagged desperately as he quickly shoved his shirt over his mouth and nose. The file underneath his arm fell onto the floor but didn’t spill any of its contents, thank god, and he took to gasping for air rather than even trying to pick it up because jesus christ what was that <em>smell</em>, what happened here, what was going on, what the <em>fuck</em>-</p><p>He made the mistake of looking around.</p><p>He immediately wished he hadn’t looked around.</p><p>Oh, he wished so badly he hadn’t looked at the wall, oh god why did he <em>look</em>-</p><p>He was too shocked to scream.</p><p>The small apartment kitchen of his and Percy’s was painted a light yellow. Michael protested against the colour when they were deciding on it - after all, any stains would be immediately visible and he knew how explosive Percy’s cooking could get, he wasn’t about to repaint the walls every week - but in the end, he caved, mainly because Percy allowed him to paint their bedroom ceiling black and draw small white dots on it. It turned out to be quite a lovable colour. It took him a while to realize why.</p><p>Ultimately, it was because the yellow reminded him of Percy; of his brightness, his optimism, his positivity and his everything that shone through and was never dimmed through the years, just like the Michael’s adoration for the man (although it did calm down and settle from a burning inferno to a tame, long-lasting fire). It was just so <em>him</em> to paint a kitchen in yellow, despite the practical reasons, just because he wanted it that way.</p><p>Michael even learnt to <em>like</em> the colour, nowadays, as outlandish as it sounded.</p><p>And now, on that same wall they had painted together, both bickering and laughing and joking all the way, on that same wall that had been repainted so many times, there was-</p><p>There was the-</p><p>Michael felt bile rise up his throat as he stopped breathing behind the barrier that was his shirt.</p><p>Twix, Percy’s beloved pet, the most assholish, spoiled cat there ever was, was nailed to the wall by his head with their vegetable knife.</p><p>Blood was still trickling down from the cat, from the wound on his head and from the long, vertical cut on his stomach, and that wasn’t just blood it was- it was his <em>guts</em>, his intestines and stomach, just <em>hanging</em>, and Twix was dangling from the wall too, his fur black with blood.</p><p>The rest of the kitchen was so absurdly clean. The dishes were done, safe for a single dirty plate and some utensils still in the sink, and the counter was relatively spotless, and the rest of the walls were all neat and tidy, but there Twix was, just nailed to the wall like a bad Halloween decoration.</p><p>Michael felt numb.</p><p>He knew he should be panicking. He knew he should be throwing up, or crying, or screaming, or calling out for help or <em>anything at all</em>, but he simply couldn’t. He could do nothing but stand there and let his arms fall to his sides, his shirt collar slumping down so that he got to smell <em>it</em> again.</p><p>Blood, he realized. What he was smelling was blood.</p><p>He couldn’t do anything. He was frozen in time and space, glued to the floor, and his mind was screaming at him to do something but he just couldn’t.</p><p>There was a paper on the counter.</p><p>He didn’t realize it before, but it was all he could see now. A perfectly crystal white, spotless piece of paper, just sitting on the clean counter, just waiting for him to approach it.</p><p>Every step forward felt like he was walking to the gallows. He swore he barely remembered taking half of them.</p><p>There were words. He knew there were - there must’ve been, in order for the piece of paper to make sense. Of course there were words. There had to be. He just- had to read. Read them. Yes. Read them and ignore the cat nailed to the wall. Good.</p><p>Michael picked up the paper with shaky hands.</p><p>He recognized the handwriting immediately. He had seen it too many times not to.</p><p>
  <em>This is what happens to pets whose masters aren't catious enough. You don't want it to happen to yours, do you?</em>
</p><p>His heartbeat stopped.</p><p>"Son of a bitch," he breathed. "<em>Son of a</em>-"</p><p>That was when he noticed something else on the table, resting where the note was placed beforehand. He supposed it must've been placed underneath it. He grabbed it and realized it was another piece of paper - this time adorned by a tuft of light fur, speckled with red droplets.</p><p>He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry.</p><p>But all he could do was bat the ball of fur away and read it.</p><p>
  <em>Be home by midnight. Bring the papers.</em>
</p><p>He looked back at the counter. Then the first note. Then the second one. Then he repeated. Then he repeated it again.</p><p>The smell, there was still the smell, it was getting stronger oh god what was going on, was this real, this couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be, oh please let this be a dream-</p><p>He flipped the note over.</p><p>More words.</p><p>His breathing was picking up, he realized, and it only brought in more of the smell, the smell of blood, oh god it was really blood wasn’t it-</p><p>He looked at the note. The first one. The second one. The second one’s second page. The tuft of fur.</p><p>Then he repeated.</p><p>Then he repeated.</p><p>And then his eyes stayed on the tuft of fur.</p><p>It was a light, almost white colour in essence. It made the red sprinkles on it only more prominent when he looked at it, and the way it was tangled together made it almost big enough to be of notice, and the hairs were long and Twix wasn’t long-furred and it-</p><p>Oh no.</p><p>It wasn’t-</p><p>It wasn't <em>fur</em>-</p><p>He couldn't help it. He threw up straight on the floor right then and there. He couldn't help it and he could barely stand because he was so terrified.</p><p>Because what was resting on the note wasn't bloodstained fur.</p><p>It was blond, human <em>hair</em>.</p><p>
  <em>Clock's ticking, Michael.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You know this could probably be continued into something but then again when have I ever continued an idea<br/>Also I am terribly sorry for pulling whatever this chapter is, Twix didn’t deserve this and neither did the boys<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Mermaid AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Michael did, despite all odds, know quite a bit about mermaids, or at least he could reasonably claim to.<br/>That, however, didn't mean he completely failed to understand mermaids.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is just soft. And cliché, too, but mostly soft.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael did, despite all odds, know quite a bit about mermaids.Hard to avoid it when you're a fisherman working in an intensely supernatural area.</p><p>He grew up with the knowledge they existed constantly present at the back of his mind - not only did uncle Henry tell him numerous stories about them and not only were there countless books and drawings passed around the small seaside village of Oakdale, but his father also knew practically all there was to know about them.</p><p>The giant, shimmering green tail fin above their fireplace was more than proof of that.</p><p>Elizabeth found the shiny scales pretty (before his father came home from a fishing trip one day without her). Timothy was scared to death of it (before Michael accidentaly drowned him). Charlie scoffed at it, as if mocking it for having the undecency of being nailed to a wall (before she went missing, never to be seen again). Michael simply took it as something that just <em>was</em> (before he realized there was something incredibly disturbing about having a body part hanging against a wall inside your home).</p><p>After he started to go out fishing with his father, the knowledge of mermaids he had weirdly stayed pretty much the same - he never saw one when out at sea, not even years later when he started going alone, unable to stand being on the same boat as his father for hours or even days at a time. He knew they were there, for sure - he saw many fish caught in his net that had entire chunks of flesh bitten out of them by something that looked like a human bite but was <em>really</em> not it - but he never saw one in the flesh, much less had the opportunity to learn more about them than what he already knew.</p><p>What he <em>did</em> know was fairly basic; that mermaids were humanoid, but had several animalistic, fish-like features like fins and skin between fingers and gills and sharp teeth; that they could breathe both on land and under water; that they were carnivorous, hunting fish and picking seashells in flocks and sometimes even luring in unsuspecting humans; that their voices were hauntingly beautiful and that they could make people bend to their will with them alone; and that they were incredibly hard to find and rare to spot and known to never approach humans without ill intent.</p><p>All in all, Michael did know quite a but about mermaids, or at least he could claim to.</p><p>That, however, didn't mean he completely failed to <em>understand</em> mermaids.</p><p>"D-Do you like shells?"</p><p>He blinked a couple of times at the merman lying in the shallows of the coast. "Pardon?"</p><p>The merman smiled disarmingly. It was a wonder how he managed to make that smile so bright despite the fact that he had quite obvious and quite sharp canines, but he did. Michael would argue it was the cream-yellow tone of the creature; from his algae-covered pointy ears to his pale skin to his weirdly fluffy-looking wet hair to the brilliantly yellow scales spreading from the lower part of his torso to the end of his tail, glimmering in the sunlight. The creature spoke again, smile still on his lips: "I-I asked if you liked seashells. Since you're, uh, a fishman-"</p><p>"Fisherman."</p><p>"-that's what I said - anyhow, you, I mean, <em>you</em> and <em>your people</em> like, uh, sea, probably?"</p><p>He seemed to wait for Michael to respond. The brunette, sitting on the rocks of the empty beach with his legs crossed, was still reeling from the fact that not only was the merman speaking to him, he was asking him <em>questions</em>, and he was <em>stuttering</em> while at it which made no sense because smooth, alluring voices were what mermaids <em>did</em> and yet there was <em>this one </em>right here-</p><p>His brain finally processed the question. "Oh, uh, y-yeah. We kinda. Live. By the sea. You know?"</p><p>The merman, who lived <em>in</em> the sea Michael realized while kicking himself mentally, nodded in quite a serious manner. "I, ah, thought so. So, do you like seashells?"</p><p>The fisherman honestly didn't know if the mermaid was fucking with him or if it was just how mermaids were in general. He had a feeling it was a mixture of both.</p><p>He wet his lips with his tongue and to his surprise the creature immediately started staring at his mouth, as if fascinated by the movement. A moment later, the merman copied it, the inhumanly long and weirdly boney tongue running across his lips. He gave a delighted little hum and smiled again, cocking his head to the side, his inhuman yellow eyes looking at him in anticipation.</p><p>Michael wanted to say something, a few seconds ago. He was pretty sure of that.</p><p>If only his brain hadn't short-curcuited.</p><p>
  <em>Jesus Christ, no one told me mermaids are adorable.</em>
</p><p>"I mean, I-" Michael resisted the urge to wet his lips again, not wanting the gesture to be repeated back at him because he wasn't sure he could handle that. "I guess I-I like them?"</p><p>The merman visibly perked up. "Oh?"</p><p>"Yeah, you're pre- I-I mean <em>they're</em> pretty. They're really pretty. Yeah."</p><p>Perhaps that was what the stories had meant when they warned sailors not to fall for the mermaids' charm. Michael had just been prepearing for the wrong situation.</p><p>He had been prepearing for hearing a haunting tune one day when out at sea, a beautiful voice singing from the reefs overlooking the water and a gorgeous woman to be waiting there, for him. It was how the books described it and, to be perfectly honest, he wasn't very worried about it. He could handle not throwing himself off deck because a pretty woman told him so (he stubbornly refused to think about why he was so sure a <em>woman</em> would never be able to attract him into his death and he will probably refuse to think about it until the day he died). He was prepeared for the alluring beauty, for the honeyed songs and words, for the mysterious fog and creatures who pretended to be humans waiting within.</p><p>What he <em>wasn’t</em> prepared for was to drag the net out of the water one day, wondering what was weighing it down so much, only to pull up a whole-ass unconscious <em>merman</em>, tangled in the net and covered in rope-burns. Neither was he prepeared for the fact that then, after he cut the creature free and nervously waited for it to wake up, he would be faced with the most embarrased and impossibly apologetic monologue he had ever heard - in fluent <em>English</em>, nonetheless - as if it was the merman's fault that he had to destroy the net and not his fault that he caught him in the first place. Then, after awkwardly jumping back into the water, the merman promptly proceeded to <em>stalk</em> him and figure out where he lived and where he liked to go when he was alone, and just swim up to him one day when he was sitting on the abandoned rock beach as if they were old friends rather than a human and a supernatural creature of the depths.</p><p>What it took for him to be lured in wasn't a pretty song, or a pretty girl  - it just took an awkward, overly-optimistic merman who liked to talk a lot to seek him out for three times he spent at the lone beach in a row and talk to him about seashells.</p><p>The merman's pointed ears twitched excitedly at his affirmation. Suddenly, he was reaching out with one hand towards the human, his fingers curled around something the fisherman couldn't make out and he tensed to prepare himself to get up as quickly as possible and run because he realized just then that the cute and cuddly happy little merman had <em>claws</em> and <em>canines</em> and could probably eat him alive if he wanted to.</p><p>Then the merman opened his fist.</p><p>Michael gaped.</p><p>The shell was one of the prettiest things he had ever seen. It had the usual structure or a ribbed uper side and a smooth underside, but it was somehow an absolutely brilliant purple colour that was a deep, eggplant black-purple at the bottom and gradually shaded into a barely there light violet at the tips. It was about the size of a pebble, its size accented by the palm and the webbed fingers that held it.</p><p>"It's..." Michael muttered, eyes wide. "It's really pretty."</p><p>The merman gave a delighted little giggle at that and the fisherman could swear he saw him blush, although that made absolutely zero sense because mermaids didn’t blush, not a single book in exsistence had ever mentioned a mermaid <em>blushing</em> and yet here he was. He made intense eye contact with Michael as he licked his lips and the fisherman immediately realized he should probably tell him that that wasn't how humans communicated with each other or whatever the other thought it was because if he saw that one more time he would probably jump into the water right then and there and let the merman hold him under voluntarily.</p><p>"I thought I should give you a little som-something. Uh, as thanks, for not k-killing me, you know?" the merman said, his tail wagging left and right as if he were an excited puppy. "And you have such pretty eyes, and I, uh, it reminded me of you, and I still haven't thanked you, you know, properly, so here you go!"</p><p>He held out the shell excitedly to the human, yellow tail still moving left and right in excitement.</p><p>If he told Michael to jump in right then and there, despite every single book on the subject warning him to never swim anywhere close to a mermaid lest he wanted to be drowned, he would've done so with no hesitation. Hell, he probably would've swam right up to the merman and clung to him for dear life because oh god how could a supernatural non-human creature possibly be <em>this</em> cute?</p><p>Perhaps this was the merman's tactic of luring in sailors. Michael, strangely enough, could not bring himself to care.</p><p>Michael realized he had probably been staring at the merman for a very long time. Subconsciously he thanked whatever higher power there was that the creature didn't seem to posses an understanding of human etiquette and therefore didn't even notice it.</p><p>When he took the shell their palms brushed for a second.</p><p>The merman’s hands were shocking soft, despite the claws that adorned his fingers. Soft and cool in the same way as a fresh fish pulled out of the water is. He almost didn’t want to draw back.</p><p>Michael held the tiny shell with wonder, admiring it for what was probably too long before he looked up to the merman and found him staring at him, unblinking, trembling lightly with what seemed like anticipation.</p><p>He wanted to say many things, in that moment.</p><p>What he said, in the end, was: “I didn’t think there were purple shells.”</p><p>The creature ginned and promptly licked his lips (god he had to tell him that humans didn’t do that before speaking he was going to die) before replying with a tone of smugness so obviously there in his voice: “Think you humans know the sea, do you?”</p><p>Michael’s eyebrow raised delicately at the clear challenge. “Of course not. Just... surprised.”</p><p>The merman tilted his head just the slightest bit to the side and Michael had the sudden need to elaborate: “I mean, we hunt fishes from the sea, sure, and we travel over it and everything, but... we don’t know it, do we? So, it’s logical for there to be some things we don’t know, right?”</p><p>He quieted and for a second, there was only the sound of the waves hitting the beach, spilling over the merman’s tail as he watched him, intrigued.</p><p>There was something really surprised in his voice as he spoke: “You’re <em>really</em> not like the others, are you?”</p><p>Michael didn’t know if that was a compliment or not. It sure felt like one.</p><p>“Well, if it helps you any, you aren’t exactly what I expected either,” he said, chuckling nervously just as the merman giggled again and he nearly choked on his saliva at the sound. A gull shrieked through the air as it passed them overhead, and for a second, Michael felt more at peace than he ever had in his life.</p><p>“Percy.”</p><p>He looked back at the creature. “Hm?”</p><p>“Percy,” he repeated, head only slightly ducked as he did. “My name. It’s, uh, it’s P-Percy.”</p><p>Michael gave him an incredulous look before he realized the other wasn’t joking. “O-Oh?”</p><p>The merman - Percy - shifted his tail in the water, seemingly uncomfortable, and Michael immediately wanted that expression to be gone because the sunny creature before him didn’t deserve to have that expression on his face. “T-Too much?”</p><p>“No!” Michael exclaimed, probably a bit too loudly at the way Percy startled at the sound. “No, no, it’s- it’s just-“ He gave a helpless gesture with his hand and Percy looked even more confused. “It’s, uh, I’ve just, expected something more... exotic?”</p><p>The merman’s eyebrows (why did he have <em>eyebrows</em>?!) furrowed and he licked his lips before speaking: “Exotic?”</p><p>“You know...” Michael gestured with his hand again and nearly facepalmed when the merman copied the gesture with vigor. “Just- More, uh, more- different. Than <em>our</em> names. You know?”</p><p>Percy looked at him for a second, licked his lips, and said: “No?”</p><p>Michael nearly groaned.</p><p>“Uh,” he said, intelligently. “It’s- It’s a pretty name?”</p><p>Percy seemed to perk up at that. “It is?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Michael hesitated for a split second, because he knew that giving out his name to a mermaid was, in its essence, a straight-up suicidal idea, but he continued and spoke without stuttering, somehow: “I’m Michael.”</p><p>“Michael,” Percy repeated in a soft, careful tone, as if testing the name out on his tongue. He probably was, but it didn’t feel that way to the brunette. Especially when the merman repeated it: “Michael’s a pretty name too!”</p><p>He smiled again.</p><p>God, the merman could eat him right then and there and Michael would probably <em>thank</em> him.</p><p>They talked for hours after that. Michael was thankful he didn’t have to go out that day, because he would’ve promptly forgotten about it even if he had. He had trouble believing the encounter was even real, once Percy proclaimed that the sun was setting and that he should be going back and dipped into the water with a shy little wave before disappearing altogether, the sun glinting on his yellow scales before they blinked out of view. Maybe he <em>would’ve</em> thought it was a dream, and that he was just having weird visions from the heat.</p><p>He would’ve had, if only there wasn’t for a small, purple shell.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not gonna lie I had way too much fun writing this one<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Spoiling each other</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It wasn’t rare for Michael to be exhausted after working overtime. Neither was it rare for him to come home late every once in a while, barely able to stand.<br/>Luckily, Percy was prepared.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey wanna see some fluffy fluff?? Well you’ve certainly come to the right place<br/>Essentially this whole drabble is just Percy spoiling the crap out of Michael because goddamn he absolutely deserves it</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One day, working overtime was going to kill him.</p><p>Just the whole concept of not only dismantling the same animatronics day by day, but also having to stay for a longer amount of time than what was required doing exactly what you did every day for what was probably going to be fifty cents of extra was fairly ludicrous. One would have to be a complete fool to work overtime at Freddy’s, especially on a Friday, because not only was it not worth it, it gave a one-way guarantee to feeling like dying when the shift was finally done.</p><p>It is worth mentioning here that Michael was, quite indeed, a fool.</p><p>This was, however, not the day of his pre-determined death from exhaustion. Even though he barely dragged himself upstairs to his and Percy’s flat he felt fairly content with the afternoon, at least; it was a Friday, and Fridays meant Michael would preferably get to spend the whole weekend with his boyfriend, and that was good, so he was good.</p><p>But damn was he tired.</p><p>When Michael shut the front door to their apartment, he was immediately greated by a loud meow and the pitter-patter of soft cat paws. He gave Twix a tired smile as he leant down to put away his shoes and scratched him behind the ears. “Hi there, buddy.”</p><p>Twix purred in return and curled around his legs as he hung his jacket. There were sounds coming from the general direction of the living room, so Michael immediately headed there, the caramel-coloured cat hot on his heels.</p><p>Percy was standing in the middle of the room, folding something or the other on the couch - probably laundry - when he turned back and greeted Michael with a smile.</p><p>He looked so soft. So <em>squishy</em>. So <em>comfortable</em>.</p><p>"Hello, love.”</p><p>Yeah, that was it.</p><p>A loud grumble was all the warning Percy got before a bundle of greasy brown hair and everything underneath collapsed into his arms. He startled and almost let his exhausted boyfriend fall to the ground. Luckily, that didn't happen as the mechanic latched onto him like a baby koala.</p><p>The blond gave a flabbergasted chuckle and soothingly ran his fingers through his partner's hair. Michael near damn purred.</p><p>“Long shift?”</p><p>“Mm.”</p><p>Percy sighed as he gently sat Michael down onto the couch in the middle of their laundry. “I went and started with the chores for the day, figured you wouldn’t be up to it,” he said, amusement prevailant in his voice.</p><p>“Thanks,” the brunette breathed as he leaned back. Then a flare of guilt lit up within him merely a second after. “Shit, I’m sorry I let you alone with all the work, I just-“</p><p>“Hey hey, it’s no trouble,” Percy shushed him as he gathered up the folded clothes. “You look half dead already. You just relax.”</p><p>“But-“</p><p>“No <em>butts</em> except yours on this couch right here.”</p><p>Before Michael could protest, Percy was already bustling to their bedroom and the sound of drawers opening filled up the flat. Michael had half the mind to follow him - maybe hold the clothes while Percy sorted them, at least - when Twix suddenly jumped onto the couch, his big eyes narrowed at Michael as he started pawing his leg.</p><p>He sighed and petted the tom. “You two really teamed up on me here, haven’t you?”</p><p>Twix purred and calmly insinuated himself on the brunette’s lap.</p><p>“I thought so,” Michael muttered as he scratched the cat’s ear.</p><p>Percy’s head peaked out from the bedroom door, holding out a pair of white boxer shorts and frowning at them suspiciously. “Mike, are these yours or mine?”</p><p>Michael gave them a tired scan. “Mine.”</p><p>”How can you-“</p><p>”They have the black tag.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, right. Thanks.” And he disappeared again, much to the brunette’s amusement and exasperation. He relaxed into the sofa, increasingly becoming one with the cushions the more time had passed.</p><p>
  <em>Where did I find this dork?</em>
</p><p>“Say,” Percy said a minute later when he finally came out of the room for good. He sat down next to Michael, letting him nuzzle up against his chest much to the brunette’s delight, because that promised cuddles to be had which he desperately needed. He was silent for long enough that Michael almost teased him into continuing before Percy finally spoke: “Say, there’s this movie showing at the cinema this weekend.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Michael mumbled, bringing his arms around his boyfriend’s waist.</p><p>“Yeah,” Percy replied.</p><p>“And..?”</p><p>“I-I thought you might, uh, like it. If you’d want to go, of course.”</p><p>The brunette hummed as his boyfriend thankfully resumed the earlier caressing of his hair. He contemplated the offer for a second before he decided that going to watch a movie with his boyfriend would be a very nice endeavor indeed, and asked: “What’s it called?”</p><p>“Uh, Pretty woman, I think.”</p><p>Michael chuckled against the other’s shirt. “Sounds like a romcom.”</p><p>“Oh, it is.”</p><p>That made the brunette’s chuckles stop. He looked up at Percy’s face, his eyebrows furrowed: “You hate romcoms.”</p><p>“No I don’t.”</p><p>Michael gave him a <em>look</em>. Percy rolled his eyes, fondly.</p><p>“Okay, maybe I do dislike them slightly-“</p><p>“<em>Slightly</em>?”</p><p>“But <em>you</em> love them, don’t you?”</p><p>It took Michael a few seconds to catch up with what Percy was insinuating.</p><p>When he did, his brain promptly froze.</p><p>Surely he was joking. Surely-</p><p>“You- You’d go watch that?” he asked, barely daring himself to believe it. “For me?”</p><p>Percy snorted, as if the answer was completely obvious. “Of course I would. It’s showing tomorrow at, uh, eight I think, and w-we can probably get the good seats if we get there early-“</p><p>Michael’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Or at least he assumed it did, because Percy stopped talking when he saw whatever expression he was wearing, and Michael realized that the blond was absolutely beautiful when he was shocked. He laughed - properly laughed, with his head thrown slightly backward, eyes closed.</p><p>Percy was going out of his way to do something for him. Not just <em>for</em> him - <em>with</em> him, and he wouldn’t even enjoy it and yet he still did it, because it would make Michael happy.</p><p>What did he do to deserve this man?</p><p>“I love you,” he whispered against the other’s shirt, smiling uncontrollably. He hasn’t smiled so much in a long while. “I love you I love you I love you!” he gushed, squeezing the other in a bear hug.</p><p>He couldn’t see Percy’s face, but he could just hear that happy little smile he always wore when he was particularly content with something: “I love you too, Mikey.”</p><p>They stayed like that for a while. Then, Michael sniffed the air and frowned in confusion.</p><p>“Wha’s that?”</p><p>“Oh, right, I forgot to tell you, I made Mexican for dinner.”</p><p>Michael’s favourite. Of course he would. Michael thought he was floating when he looked up in his boyfriend’s eyes, delighting in the happy expression he wore. He breathed: “You don’t cook.”</p><p>“No, I don’t.”</p><p>Michael was fairly certain he’d explode. Just blow into smithereens here and there.</p><p>Instead, he just hugged his boyfriend close, and kissed the living daylights out of him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think writing this much fluff was a cleansing experience for me. I should do this more often.<br/>Btw I am once again thanking whoever is reading this for reading this, you guys are the best, I love y’all<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Jealousy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Percy knew Michael was a fairly good looking man. He also knew they both presented themselves as single straight roommates to the public, for the sake of their combined safety.<br/>That didn’t make the tiny possessive snarl in the back of his mind whenever someone blatantly flirted with Michael in front of him any less present.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No warnings for this chapter, except for period-typical homophobia and a blink and you’ll miss it reference to the AIDS crisis</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Percy knew Michael was a fairly good looking man.</p><p>From his slightly rebellious look his ponytail and dark style of clothing carried, to the work-tired expression he always wore, to his frankly beautiful and unique and <em>gorgeous</em> and <em>expressive</em> eyes, it was a wonder Percy had ever managed to work his way past the competition of all the women (and men) ready to throw themselves at Michael’s feet at the drop of a hat. He looked like the definition of ‘tall, dark and handsome’; or at the very least, he looked that way to Percy.</p><p>Michael would laugh it off, or scoff and call him a sap, or tease him about how Percy had no competition to speak of, or kiss the blond to shut him up. Point is, he never took it too seriously. He knew it, that was for damn sure - he wasn’t about to claim that he was a disgraceful person with a face no one could ever love when he was obviously not - but he didn’t pay it any considerate chunk of mind.</p><p>Percy wished he could do the same - to also ignore the lingering looks and the bites on the lip and the purring whispers that sometimes followed his boyfriend with as much ease as Michael himself only could. He wished he could think like Michael did, to just think about their relationship when moments like that struck, about how those people simply didn’t know any better and how it was better they didn’t for everyone, how knowing that they were loyal to each other was enough.</p><p>Oh, he wished he could.</p><p>But currently, he wanted <em>desperately</em> to just pull Michael away and hold him tight in front of <em>everyone</em> and tell this girl to <em>back off.</em></p><p>She didn’t know. Of course, she <em>couldn’t</em> have known, and it wasn’t like they made their relationship public - it would be incredibly foolish to do so, especially in the early fallout of the crisis people like them were associated with. She didn’t know she was flirting with a taken man, or that his boyfriend was right next to him.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, that didn’t make the pulsing, toxic feeling in his stomach any better.</p><p>She twirled her hair around her finger nervously as she moved closer on the barstool next to Michael’s. “So, where are you from?”</p><p>“Around here,” the brunette answered simply, draining his glass. Percy didn’t miss how the girl’s eyes gleamed in delight, but neither did he miss the disintrested look in Michael’s purple irises.</p><p>It gave him the malicious sort of satisfaction some people go to hell for.</p><p>Yeah, maybe he was being petty, but come <em>on</em>; he and Michael decide to go out for once, socialize a bit with other people than themselves and Fazbear’s staff, and immediately while Percy is fetching the drinks a college student on her spring break is flirting unapologetically with his boyfriend. She didn’t even look at him beyond a nod in his direction when he handed Michael his drink, too absorbed in trying to squeeze out the brunette’s life story from him. She was very successfully taking up all of Michael’s attention, leaving Percy feeling like a third wheel on a date with his own boyfriend while her friends at a table in the background were pretending not to stare at them and were failing miserably at it, giggling so loudly he could hear them from all the way across the bar.</p><p>All in all, he wasn’t having a good time right now, so he felt like he absolutely deserved the right to be a <em>little</em> petty.</p><p>“I’m just around the block from here,” the girl - Percy wasn’t around to hear her intoduce herself - continued before raising her eyebrows slightly, a sly grin creeping into her face. “You could walk me home, if you’d like.”</p><p>
  <em>She didn’t know any better. She didn’t know.</em>
</p><p>“Ah, sorry, but-“ Michael gave a nod towards Percy.</p><p>Apparently, that was all it took for the girl to finally notice him. He saw her falter for a second when she looked at his face and he realized he was scowling harder than he had at the dog shit he had stepped into this morning while walking to work. He tried to get his expression to soften and even gave her a smile that was probably more forced than this entire conversation, and that was saying a lot.</p><p>The girl frowned just a slight bit before her shy little smile was back as she said: “Oh, I’m sure your <em>friend</em> won’t mind?” She faltered for a second before continuing with a sincere tone that Percy found himself very much appreciating: “I mean, if you don’t want to, it’s perfectly fine. Just offering, I guess. You’re a good looking guy, Mike.”</p><p>She was trying. She was polite about it, and she was sincere, and he shouldn’t be angry because she didn’t <em>know</em>.</p><p>But then, in a sudden show of boldness, one of her hands slid onto Michael’s thigh, and Percy saw <em>red.</em></p><p>He knew they had to keep up appearances. He knew he had to let Michael engage in polite conversation with people trying to flirt with him, just as Michael had to let him accept advances he didn’t exactly want to accept. He knew they were already playing with fire by living together, even when they presented their relationship as roommates to everyone outside of their inner circle of friends. He knew the girl had no way of knowing all of this, and that in a way, her flirting with Michael was a perfect way to guarantee them some peace of mind from nosey individuals for a few weeks.</p><p>He knew.</p><p>But god fucking <em>damn</em> it, he wanted to stand up and yell at her in front of the whole bar in that moment, because Michael was <em>his, </em>ignorance-is-bliss be fucking <em>damned-</em></p><p>“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice girl, but I’m not exactly looking to hook up at the moment. Is that okay?”</p><p>Michael was polite as he spoke. He always was - however, there was a cold detachment in his voice that spoke of how he wasn’t going to change his statement any time soon, and that it was final and over-with, amplified times thousand when he reached for the girl’s hand and gently but firmly removed it from his thigh. Percy couldn’t help feeling validated at that, because, as he realized in that moment, Michael could have any girl or guy here <em>easily</em> and certainly deserved them and yet, he stuck with <em>him</em> for whatever reason. Lord have mercy he didn’t deserve him, but he loved him and he’d be damned if that would ever change.</p><p>The roaring monster in his chest slowly but surely recoiled from where it was urging him to do something incredibly stupid, going back to just crawling around at the back of his mind, perfectly harmless.</p><p>Or so he hoped.</p><p>The girl gave a slightly disappointed, but level smile: “Yeah. That’s fine.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“Thank <em>you</em> for telling me.”</p><p>She sat there awkwardly for a few seconds after that before she slipped out of her seat, much to the very poorly disguised surprise of her friends. She held her hand to Michael: “Nice meeting you, still?”</p><p>The brunette, though he was facing away from Percy, smiled - he knew he did because it was in his voice. “Likewise.”</p><p>And off she went.</p><p>Percy unknowingly slumped against the counter as soon as she was out of sight. He was about to speak when he heard one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.</p><p>Michael was laughing.</p><p>“What’s so funny?” he choked, stunned at how good the brunette looked in the club’s lights and fuck he understood the girl now, if he didn’t already know and have Michael he would’ve <em>jumped</em> at a sight like that. He realized he was very lucky, in that moment, too lucky to even comprehend, because Michael was his, and he was Michael’s, and <em>fuck</em> he was lucky.</p><p>“Yo-Your face,” Michael giggled, leaning on his arm to give Percy a teasing look. “I thought you’d start hissing at her any second, there.”</p><p>The blond couldn’t help but blush, despite the faux offended reply he gave: “You know very well <em>why</em>, Mike.”</p><p>“Oh, I do,” Michael said and then continued in a much lower tone: “You know... Just because I didn’t take her home doesn’t mean I’m not up to anything tonight, right?”</p><p>Percy swallowed, and Michael grinned.</p><p>They were out of that place just a few minutes later.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just to make it clear Percy’s perspective on Michael’s appearance is very much subjective in this shot, as it is in every one of them - I imagine them both as pretty standard looking dudes, except Michael has that Bad Boy energy quite some people (including Percy) gravitate to.<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. One of them dies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Michael had never figured he would be using his knowledge of the animatronics to take them apart one day. It wasn’t like dismantling animatronics was a particularly life-saving skill, after all.<br/>Somewhere, in a deep, distant part of his hysterical mind, he registered the irony.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay I have good news and I have bad news;<br/>The good news is this is the last angsty one in this whole drabble sequence/challenge.<br/>The bad news is it is a very very much agsty one.<br/>Warnings for blood, graphic injury, and yup, you guessed it; major character death.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael had never figured he would be using his knowledge of the animatronics to take them apart one day.</p><p>Okay, maybe he had a fantasy or two involving doing just that, for sure, but he didn’t think it would actually be a vital thing he would desperately need to know in an extremely specific situation. The only scenarios he could picture himself usinghis know-how of dismantling an animatronic suit were if he was trying to defend himself against a coup of possessed metal mascots (which wasn’t as unlikely as it sounded) or if he was forced to quickly dismantle a suit before it caught on fire from the inside (which was something that had happened once, when Bonnie’s shitty endoskeleton glitched during a show). That was pretty much it, however - it wasn’t like dismantling animatronics was a particularly life-saving skill, after all.</p><p>Somewhere, in a deep, distant part of his hysterical mind, he registered the irony.</p><p>On the surface however, where his shouting and shaky hands and twitching eyes and sweat and oberwhelming panic was, all he could register in that moment was that underneath the metal plates he was pulling away, there was the slightest feeling of warmth, and that and that was all it mattered.</p><p>His throat choked when he registered the slick <em>pop</em> of the forearm plate when it was removed, something warm and sticky and dark covering it from the inside and the outside.</p><p>
  <em>Oh god please be alive, please be alive, please be alive,</em>
</p><p>“Please be alive, please be alive, please be a-alive, please, <em>please</em>-“</p><p>No response, why was there<em> no response, oh god what if-</em></p><p>He tore at the suit without even registering the way his nails broke and bled as he did, without caring for his hurting knees or palms, because what he was kneeling in was <em>blood</em> and the suit was <em>covered</em> in blood and <em>he</em> was covered in blood and it was- it was <em>Percy’s</em> blood oh god this was happening, this wasn’t just a dream, the day when he came to pick the blond up from his shift only for him to be gone was finally there, it wasn’t just a nightmare anymore, it was real, oh god oh goD oH gOD-</p><p>There. Thats was the last part that needed to be removed. That was all there was. Percy was completely unrestricted, removed from the things that harmed him in the first place, he was out and he was not moving, he still <em>wasn’t moving</em>-</p><p>“P-Percy,” he called out, shaking him desperately by the shoulder and wincing at the sick pop the bone gave as he dragged the limp body to his lap and it was still <em>warm</em>, <em>he</em> was still warm there was still hope he wasn’t- he <em>wasn’t</em>-</p><p>“PERCY!” he shouted, shaking the body fruitlessly, searching for the rise and fall of his chest, for a flutter of open eyelids (the eyes were still there, they were still there oh thank god they were still there they haven’t- <em>haven’t</em>-), for a sign of a heartbeat or movement, <em>anything</em>, anything but this, please no please not this-</p><p>He barely registered how heavy and unmoving the blond was in his arms, not unlike a ragdoll; how his bright, happy eyes were dull and lifeless, open but unseeing; how his chest was unmoving; how his limbs were barely limbs anymore, how his stomach was pretty much <em>open</em>, how there were dark trails streaking down his face and eyes. He wasn’t looking for <em>those</em> signs because he still clung to some hope, somewhere along the line, because his body was still warm through the uniform and it had to mean <em>something</em>.</p><p>"Percy," Micheal whispered, horror setting into his bones. "Pe-Percy- no, no no-"</p><p>He wasn’t dead, he <em>wasn’t</em>, he wasn’t <em>dead</em>, he couldn’t be, oh god no please please <em>please please p<strong>lease</strong></em>-</p><p>If he-</p><p>If Percy-</p><p>If he- if he <em>died</em>-</p><p>He would never see those eyes move towards him again, or narrow in a wink or an annoyed glance or in concentratrion. Never again would that mouth be stretched into one of those happy, happy smiles, too good to be true but true nonetheless. Never again would he hug him close and press soft kisses to his face and whisper excited sweet nothings as they cuddled in the covers of a shared hotel room, or be able to kiss him at Percy's apartment after he moved in and could officially come there without alerting the neighbours. Never again would he hear his laugh, or his cry, or his shout, or his voice at <em>all</em>. Never again would they go out on a walk together, never again would they kiss and talk and laugh and cry and never again would they be together.</p><p>But he wasn’t-</p><p>He wasn’t-</p><p>“P-Percy, please-“</p><p>He wasn’t, he couldn’t, he wasn’t-</p><p>“Percy-“</p><p>
  <em>No he wasn’t, he wasn’t, he <b>wasn’t</b>-</em>
</p><p>“PERCY!”</p><p>
  <em>He wasn’t he wasn’t he wasn’t he wasn’t he</em>
</p><p>
  <em>wasn’t</em>
</p><p>
  <em>he</em>
</p><p>
  <em>wasn’t</em>
</p><p>
  <em><b>there</b>.</em>
</p><p>“P-Percy...”</p><p>He wasn't there.</p><p>Percy wasn’t there.</p><p>“Please...”</p><p>He was gone.</p><p>He was gone.</p><p>He was gone.</p><p>He was <em>gone</em>-</p><p>Micheal screamed.</p><p>He sobbed, he cried, he begged, but most of all, he screamed so loud that the heavens could open up and he still wouldn't stop. It wasn't really a scream; there was no word known in the human language for the grief-stricken, agonized sound that echoed through the pizzeria as a man held the body of his only lifeline close to his chest.</p><p>Because, from that moment forward, the man known as Percy Scott Colter was truly and utterly gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know I write a lot of scenes concerning Percy's death but listen that's literally the only thing we know happens to him in canon and we can't even know if he survived or not so let me be<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Growing old together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Michael is near-damn blind but refuses to wear glasses, several dairy products are mistaken for cottage cheese, and Percy is having way too much fun.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What can I say this is just two old gays who happen to be married going shopping<br/>Take this as an apology for the last chapter, don’t worry, there’s no more heavy angst from now on :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Darling, can you read this for me?”</p><p>Percy sighed as he put the cereal in the cart and walked up to his husband with the general air of someone who can’t believe that they’ve chosen <em>this</em> person to spend the rest of their life with. “I told you you need glasses.”</p><p>“Hey,” Michael grumbled as he shoved the package into Percy’s arms. “Not my fault they put it down in the smallest print possible. Now tell me, is this the cottage cheese?”</p><p>Percy looked at Michael. Then at the package. Then back at Michael.</p><p>“Well, is it?”</p><p>“Sweetie, this- this is dog food.”</p><p>“Huh,” Michael said as he reached to take back the package. “Thought it was on the wrong side of the shelf.”</p><p>“They-They don’t <em>share</em> a shelf!”</p><p>Michael promptly ignored him - or maybe he actually didn’t hear him, who knew. He told him that drilling and making things explode would damage his hearing one day, he told him so repeatedly and very often, but did he listen? <em>Nooo</em>, why <em>should</em> he, it’s not like he spent, oh, maybe four to five hours a <em>day</em> doing exactly that without glasses despite the fact that he obviously needed them quite desperately. God, Michael was an idiot.</p><p>But he was <em>his</em> idiot, so he supposed it would have to do.</p><p>Percy reached to one of the higher shelves for a box of pasta when Michael popped by again. He turned a bit to look at him before something gave an uncomfortable crack in his spine.</p><p>“I was just about to tell you not to do that,” Michael deadpanned as he helped Percy down from the outstretched position he was in, his calloused hands soft and warm through the woolen cardigan he wore. The blond used to be able to wear literally anything in any season and not be cold, no matter the circumstances, but age did that to people, he supposed.</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">Age also caused stiff joints and places that shouldn’t be locked up to lock up, it seemed, but that was okay because he had Michael, and if he had Michael things had a tendency to be a little more bearable than they would otherwise be.</span>
</p><p>“Thanks,” he muttered, rubbing his back slightly and cringing. “Who puts pasta o-on the <em>top shelf</em>?”</p><p>“A cruel bastard, that’s who,” the brunette said as he non-chalantly picked up the box and put it in the cart next to the rest of their groceries. Then, he handed Percy another package: “Alright, is this cottage cheese?”</p><p>Pecy looked at it.</p><p>“This is ricotta.”</p><p>“Closer this time,” Michael muttered, more satisfied with himself than he probably should have been. He reached to take Percy’s hand as he pushed the cart and his husband towards the dairy section. The blond (although there was more gray than blonde in his hair these days) sighed and followed without protest.</p><p>“We should really get you some glasses, darling,” he said as Michael put back the ricotta cheese to where it came from. The short-haired brunette (Percy missed the ponytail some days, but he had to admit the silver streaks the hair held were still pretty dashing) only scoffed and squinted at the product next to the ricotta (which was a fruit yoghurt).Percy continued: “Why don’t you let me try to find it?”</p><p>“This is more fun.”</p><p>“Point taken.”</p><p>Michael grumbled in a general ‘not in the mood to bicker right now’ kind of way as he inspected yet another dairy product that yet again wasn’t cottage cheese. Percy gave a soft smile that could probably melt butter from how warm it was.</p><p>Goddamn, he loved this annoying squinting stubborn idiot who always left the toilet seat up and never folded the socks in the correct order. Why did he love him? No idea. He just did.</p><p>“Uh, excuse me?”</p><p>Michael didn’t bother turning his head, knowing that Percy would beat him in responding to the person as quickly as possible anyway. Sure enough, the blond looked to his right, saw a young woman standing next to the milk, staring at them with wide eyes, and immediately said: “I-Is there something you need, dear?”</p><p>She was quiet, almost as if she failed to register the question. Her eyes were flitting from Percy to Michael and back, stopping every once in a while on their intertwined hands and the small silver loops they wore around their ring fingers-</p><p>
  <em>Ah. </em>
</p><p>He knew what this was going to be.</p><p>He very nearly responded with some sort of passive-agressive, borderline amused line one would only get from years of dealing with people who had certain problems relating to his and Michael’s relationship. He already had the words forming on his tongue when suddenly, Michael’s hand on his squeezed and a package was shoved in his face.</p><p>“Third time’s the charm. Check,” Michael grumbled, his eyes stopping on the young woman for a brief second before they returned to Percy, something hopeful and admittedly something that spoke of having way too much fun with this in his expression.</p><p>The blond struggled for a second between letting the woman continue to draw her assumptions and prepare for the inevitable rant that was surely incoming, and reading the label of a dairy product.</p><p>In the end he decided that some things in life were just priceless and read the label of the dairy product.</p><p>His cold expression morphed into a half-smile as he handed Michael back the package. “Yeah.”</p><p>“Yeah what?”</p><p>“This is the cottage cheese.”</p><p>“I knew it!” Michael cackled as he put the package in the cart. “Told you I don’t need glasses!”</p><p>“Oh, you desperately need glasses.”</p><p>“No I don’t-“</p><p>“Yes-“</p><p>“Fuck, I want to have this.”</p><p>They both collectively stopped bickering to look at the young woman who just seemed to be realizing that she had said her words out loud. She blushed a very vibrant red as she stuttered: “I mean- I-I’m sorry, for, for invading your pr-privacy and bothering you and all but, uh, but you’re really cute, together, and it’s just- it’s nice to see other people like, uh-“ she gave a barely-there scan of the room before continuing “other people like <em>me</em>, being, you know, happy and shit? So uh. Nice? I-I guess?”</p><p>They were all very quiet for a second, letting the sounds of shopping carts and screaming children and the beeping of the cashier scanner wash over the conversation. The girl blushed even harder.</p><p>Then, Percy finally got himself together and gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”</p><p>“You’re- uh, welcome? I guess?”</p><p>The blond gave her an encouraging smile. “Hope you find yourself an idiot like this one here too.”</p><p>“Ex<em>cuse</em> me?!”</p><p>The young woman chuckled, rubbing her neck nervously. “God, me too, mate, me too.”</p><p>Michael gave an offended gasp before he tugged on Percy’s hand and started to drag him and the cart away again.</p><p>“Don’t worry, he’s just really touched and doesn’t know how to express it,” Percy calmly said as he was pulled along and away from the aisle.</p><p>“Shut up, darling.”</p><p>“Oh anytime, sweetheart.”</p><p>Michael huffed, but Percy could see the glassy look in his eyes that told him he was on the verge from bursting into tears because he was faced with a sort of validation and support he didn’t know how to handle. It only made him smile more as he waved to the girl.</p><p>The smile she gave them back was priceless.</p><p>Altogether, it gave him some ideas which he expressed only when they were already waiting at thee checkout line, Michael’s ears still burning. “Say, Michael, ever thought about going to a queer youth center?”</p><p>“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”</p><p>That was definitely a ‘I’ll think about it’. At the very least.</p><p>Well. There was a new retirement activity they could both pick up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Headcanon that Michael is that one person who everyone knows needs glasses but refuses to wear them because they think they’ll make them look like an old fart<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Royalty AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Michael is a prince and Percy is a royal spokesman (or messenger, depending on the day). They both find courts positively draining. They both also enjoy cuddling afterwards.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just love how little we know about FNAF characters but how the vague concepts we have are somehow enough<br/>Like in AUs I always put Michael as a person with a higher status than Percy because he is one of the major characters and also related to William, but at the same time I can also switch Percy to having a higher position than Michael in the restaurant and both?? Scenarios?? Work?? Somehow???<br/>Anyway here’s a drabble about some fantasy-flavoured gays enjoy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Here's a thing about royal courts most people get wrong; they are positively, mind-boggingly <em>draining</em>. At least they were to Michael, anyway.</p><p>Not physically, of course - after all, sitting there and looking pretty in his best robes was barely and inconvenience - but mentally, the whole ordeal just meant a shitstorm of thoughts that ranged from 'why is this bloke here, again' to 'shit, am I supposed to know this guy, I swear I've seen him before, why do all nobles look the same' to 'why is my father such an arse' to 'fuck Percy looks good in his official robes' to 'ah shit, here comes Tinian of Bloderon again'.</p><p>You know, the usual.</p><p>Michael did his best to sit still on his throne and look his part of a prince and heir to the grand throne next to him (his father did posses a certain flair for being dramatic) while people filtered in and out of the hall, mostly in groups, some one-by-one, all summoned by their <em>lovely</em> spokesman whose blue cravat brought out his eyes rather nicely. The noblemen standing in the room and observing the court take place were just background noise to him, really; their presence was just eye-catching enough to be noticable, and yet unimportant enough to be dismissed.</p><p>It wasn’t like they particularly cared for him, either. In fact, he was fairly cetrain a good few of them would very much like to have him dead.</p><p>Ah, shit, here comes Kathrine trying to get herself wedded again. He looked at her father (another random noble from a neighbouring kingdom, go figure) blankly as he spoke up to them with hope in his eye which he had no business having, not for trying to marry off his only daughter to the son of a king notorious for his cruelty.</p><p>It wasn't like Michael went out to hang around the common people often, or actually made any decision that would affect them for better or for worse - for all they knew, he could be just as twisted as the man sitting next to him, and yet, this guy was signing off his daughter to him seemingly with no hesitation while she stood there, eyes looking around the room in what was very poorly disguised fear.</p><p>Michael felt a sharp flare of sympathy for the girl, even as he ignored literally every word that was being exchanged between the man and his father. It wasn't like he'd get to participate in the conversation anyway, and he knew very well that his father wasn't going to accept the daughter of some random power-hungry noble as a suitor, so he should, by all means, be fine not listening to any of it. She wouldn’t meet his eyes and he couldn’t blame her; besides, with all the nobles gawking up at the two thrones, it was impossible for him to do anything to reassure the gal.</p><p>He opted to sit as upright as possible, tilted in the general direction of the girl for appearance’s sake while also promptly looking directly at the spokesman behind her.</p><p>Yes, blue did suit Percy a lot. He had to tell the tailors to make him something in blue for court days. He knew he'd look even more stunning in it.</p><p>Percy, for his part, viligantly looked at the floor as the people with a considerably higher status than him spoke, fidgeting with the scroll in his hands in a subtle, barely-there way only he was capable of.</p><p>The scroll was mostly just for show. The blond didn't know how to read (Michael noted, distantly, that he should really start making their reading lessons more regular), but he had a killer memory. Having literate people in your court was somewhat of a power move, so having a person who could declare something as confidenly as reading it while looking at a scroll and pretending to comprehend it was the next best option. Whether or not his dad only kept Percy around because he had a good memory for messages and names so that he could be sent around was irrelevant - what mattered was that Michael could see him often, even when he wasn't a part of the party of nobles he was supposed to call his friends.</p><p>And that didn’t bother him.</p><p>Oh, it didn’t bother him at <em>all</em>.</p><p>Finally, the girl left, escorted by Percy down the hall and past the two guards by the entrance. Michael slumped just a little in his throne, waiting for the next person in line to show up.</p><p>Only that they never did.</p><p>"Was that the last of them?" he heard his father inquire. His voice sounded flat, almost bored, as if he had better things to do with his time than listen to his people making complaints and proposals and deals with him and his kingdom. Some of the noblemem flinched.</p><p>"Y-Yes, your Majesty," Percy spoke, his knee bowed just slightly as he pointedly looked at the floor from where he was standing, still close to the door.</p><p>William huffed and muttered: "Good." He stood up, silently encouraging Michael to do the same. All the noblemen in the room turned to leave, filtering towards the entrance without another word, taking the message that the court was dismissed. The brunette, for his part, gave his best shot at following the clear order in his father's eyes and followed him out of the throne room through a different exit than the rest, immediately flanked by guards from both sides.</p><p>He wasn't surprised when his father sauntered off without even as much as a goodbye. In a way, he was fairly happy with it, because that only left him with a whooping amount of two people in the castle's corridor, which was a giant relief after spending a whole day in a room full of people he barely knew. Two members of the royal guard who he could actually not lie completely to were a giant improvement from a court of stuffy people who expected similar stuffy behavior from him at all times.</p><p>"You can leave me here," he said to the two men still flanking him. He quickly thought up a reason and continued: "Go help Maggie with the horses, if you so please, I haven't checked with the stables in a while."</p><p>It was a weak excuse, to be sure. One of the guards squinted suspiciously through the eyeholes of his helmet, electric blue eyes narrowed directly at him. "Sire-"</p><p>"Are you questioning me?"</p><p>Oh, he knew he was behaving like the stereotype of a haughty prince. He just didn't care. He wanted to be alone with no 'friends' or 'caretakers' flanking him, rumors and reputation be damned. It wasn't like they were going to tell his father - even if he would have very much liked to hear it they would both be promptly executed afterwards for betraying the secrets of a royal. William didn't like having men who told on secrets in his personal guard, even if they were the secrets of his own son, because if they told on Michael, they would inevitably tell on him, too.</p><p>The noblemen and caretakers were a bit more tricky, as they didn't have the threat of immediate execution looming over their heads, but luckily, the prince had explicitly ordered his private entourage to leave through the main entrance for the exact reason that he didn't want them there with him - at least not today.</p><p>It was a risky power game, but it was one Michael was all too willing to exploit.</p><p>The two guards shared a subtle look before they both nodded and left with a double 'yes, your Majesty', their armours clinking through the halls. Michael stared behind them for a brief minute before he started making his way through the castle with all the confidence of someone who had grown up in it and all the excitement of someone who was looking foward to doing a very specific something.</p><p>He didn’t pay much attention to where he was going, because he was confident his legs would take him there.</p><p>He was, of course, correct.</p><p>Michael didn't miss the smirk the redhead guard before the door to his chambers gave him as he made his way towards him. He had a suspicion he knew why.</p><p>"Is he here?"</p><p>"Indeed 'e is, yer Majesty," the guard said, amusment laced through the words as he stepped out of the way for the prince. He gave him the most delicate of raised eyebrows as he asked: "Should I leave ya to it?"</p><p>Michael very nearly blushed at that before he reminded himself that he was a <em>prince</em>, he had no business blushing because of his guard and he had no obligation to respond to. Still, his voice cracked a little as he said: "Just- Don't let anyone in, clear?"</p><p>The ginger's smirk grew even wider, if that was even possible. "Aye, yer Majesty."</p><p>Luckily, the guard didn't offer any more insightful comments as Michael entered the room and quickly shut the door behind him. His gaze was immediately drawn to the purple canopy bed in the far corner - or, specifically, the figure sitting on it.</p><p>"How did you get here so fast?" Michael asked with a smile as he shrugged off his ceremonial cloak to let it drape over one of the stools, left to be collected by a servant at some point or another.</p><p>It wasn't his main focus right now - what was was the blond at the edge of the soft bed, and the way he returned the smile as he spoke: "By foot."</p><p>Oh, the cheeky little bastard.</p><p>Michael rolled his eyes fondly as he crossed the room in a few quick paces. He collapsed on the bed, staring up at the canopy as he waited for Percy to follow suit, and said: “That dragged on forever.”</p><p>Soon, sure enough, the blond went to lie down next to him, drawing the prince in with the confidence some would call foolish and others suicidal. He gave a quiet hum of agreement as he snuggled closer to the brunette, letting him rant.</p><p>And rant Michael did.</p><p>“I swear, it was like I was going to cark it before we got to the end of the list, courts aren’t supposed to be this long. And, like, I know we have to hold ‘em, right? ‘Cause it’s the only way for the less ‘esteemed’ folk to interact with me or dad. But shit, most of the time it isn’t even commoners bringing actual points to court, it’s just random noblemen requesting funds or that I marry their daughter or niece or granddaughter or whatever. When did I express the want for a wife? Not like they care, obviously, but I don’t remember ever asking for it. You know?”</p><p>“Hm,” Percy answered, somewhat sleepily. Michael realized he must’ve been tired after running around the hall calling up people and fetching them and suddenly felt very guilty about just starting to rant about his problems with no explanation or question about the blond’s own when the spokesman finally replied: “You’re coming into age. Your dad isn’t getting any youger. You’re the only heir.” He shifted to support his head with his hand, resting on his elbow as he looked at the prince. “Pretty logical conclusion to reach, if you ask me.”</p><p>Michael sighed deeply. “I want to marry <em>you</em>, goddamnit.”</p><p>Percy immediately stiffened. He could see the way his eyes flashed with deep-rooted biterness and fear before they glazed over, a sour smile spreading over the blond’s face as he spoke: “You know that’s impossible, Mike.”</p><p>And he knew it was. That was the worst part; knowing at all times that no matter how they turned it they would never be able to go official with their relationship. Michael was a prince, after all, and Percy was not only just some spokesman from a kind-of-but-not-really well-off family who got him into the royal court purely through connections and luck, he was also a <em>man. </em>The highest level of recognition they could possibly get was from the royal guards; not because they wanted them to know, but because they knew they couldn’t avoid them finding out in the long run. And after all, the few people who knew about them were aware of their relationship only in the most general terms and self-drawn conclusions neither of them averted. It was easier to disguise a long-term romantic partner as a fuck-buddy rather than denying the relationship altogether.</p><p>Didn’t mean that Michael particularly liked it when the guards joked about Percy being his <em>plaything</em>, but hey, at least they just saw him as a hook-up and left it at that.</p><p>“Enough sentimentality for the day,” the prince groaned, quickly averting the subject to focus more on the blond. Immediately, a fond, almost natural smile found its place on his face as he reached a hand to stroke Percy’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>The blond snorted: “My legs are going to fall off, but pretty good, thank you.”</p><p>“Aw, poor thing,” Michael cooed with a teasing tilt to his voice. “Tired of running around the courtroom all day, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Seventy-two times, Michael. I had to cross the whole seventy-two times.”</p><p>“You counted?”</p><p>“Well, I thought it would only be appropriate for me to put what you’ve taught me to use sometime, hm?”</p><p>“That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>“Oh, I know.”</p><p>Michael huffed in a breathless chuckle as he drew his boyfriend in closer. He was thankful for the thick stone walls surrounding them, and the leather sheet hanging over the window, giving them enough privacy to just lie together, touching and speaking with no restraint for once. The walls had ears, after all, and just because the staff wouldn't tell about the dirty little secret that was Percy's presence in his most private rooms didn't mean he wanted them to hear everything he had to say.</p><p>Not like there was a lot, currently, but still.</p><p>"I don't want to think for the rest of this afternoon,” Michael whispered as he made himself comfotable, his eyes fluttering closed. He was submerged into the embrace of his lover, he was content with his position, he was warm and safe and he didn’t have to think about his future or the pressure on his shoulders or the world outside the castle walls for a minute. This was his safe space.</p><p><em>Percy</em> was his safe space.</p><p>“Oh really?” he heard the messenger reply. Then suddenly, before he could react, the blond was straddling him by his hips, hands on each side of his head against the pillow as he gave him a playful smirk.</p><p>Michael’s eyebrows furrowed, then relaxed, and then raised. All in a span of a few seconds.</p><p>Percy leaned in until he was whispering in the prince's ear, voice only slightly husky in a way he knew drew Michael nuts: "Think I can help you with that, <em>your Majesty</em>?"</p><p>Michael drew in a sharp breath. Percy’s smile could’ve easily belonged to a demon - a particularly attractive, incompetent demon, but still a demon nonetheless.</p><p>The prince only muttered “Be careful what you wish for, darling,” before he toppled them both over.</p><p>Percy was right - he did indeed help Michael lose all of his thoughts for a good while, and he knew as soon as they <em>really</em> started to get it on he had played right into the blond’s diabolical plan to distract him from his worries.</p><p>But as they lay on the bed together afterwards, gently embracing while Percy snored against his chest, he realized he wouldn’t have it any other way.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes the royal guards are the animatronics and yes most of them ship Mikerophone and William’s private guards are absolutely Fredbear and Spring Bonnie, thank you for asking<br/>-<br/>Thank you for reading!<br/>Constructive criticism (or any comment at all to be honest) is very much welcome here. Also, if you spotted any typos or grammatical errors feel free to notify me so that I can fix them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Getting married</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>If you asked them twenty years ago, neither of them would have even considered thinking about getting married.<br/>And yet, here they were.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a relatively short drabble to end this challenge, nothing too crazy is going to happen except very very fluffy fluff</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Percy had a very distinct feeling that he was floating.</p><p>He had been feeling that way the entire day, to be perfectly honest. And the day before. And the week. And, okay, maybe he had been looking foward to this moment for months.</p><p>In some unconscious, unknowing way, he was pretty sure he had been looking foward to this moment for years.</p><p>Decades, even.</p><p>They had conversations (or, more accurately, shared fantasies) about getting married when they were both about twenty years younger and bolder - have talked about it, have proposed, have even exchanged promise rings on two chains to wear around their necks, but they were never able to have an official ceremony.</p><p>It shouldn’t have mattered to either of them - they were happy, and had support from most of the people they cared about (Percy’s parents excluded), they had a healthy, long-lasting union. It shouldn’t have mattered, but in some way, Percy was only realizing just now that it did matter cosiderably to have this moment recognized and seen.</p><p>They have both had enough hiding for a lifetime.</p><p>Everyone in their inner circle accepted the proposal as soon as it came - it truly was a long time coming, and a longer time spent waiting, and an even longer time spent trying to come terms with the fact that perhaps they would never get to do this for the simple fact that they shared their gender. Even now, Percy was near-damn euphoric with joy to be able to finally take their relationship to a step they previously couldn’t have taken.</p><p>It was almost natural, in a way; just making things they already knew were there official.</p><p>And yet, Percy still felt like he was floating.</p><p>He was floating and he was near-damn crying and he smiled into the kiss, felt a smile returned, and embraced the man he could finally call his husband for dear life.</p><p>Cheers erupted around them. There weren't a lot of them, or, perhaps more accurately, there weren't as many as one would usually expect at a wedding, even a quaint garden one such as theirs. The guests took up a whooping amount of two rows with four seats on each side of the improvised aisle, with a hole here and there, but that didn't particularly matter to either of them.</p><p>At least he could clearly make out Charlie's roar of a cheer over the crowd, and Jeremy's hysterical cackle of a laugh that he never really appreciated before now, and his nephew’s excited "Fucking <em>finally</em>!" to which immediate scolding from both his twin brother and Percy's sister erupted. He could even hear the marriage officiant who remained professionally polite for the whole affair finally let himself laugh out loud and clap alongside with the crowd while trying to awkwardly hold the papers in his hands at the same time.</p><p>But their collective presence was nothing compared to the view he got when he and Michael finally broke apart, because holy <em>shit</em>.</p><p>Michael was immaculately dressed, despite his white tuxedo being more than a tad rumpled from where Percy had held onto it while kissing the living daylights out of him. His greying dark hair hair was groomed back neatly, short as it was. He had brushed up immensly for the event, and he was <em>beautiful</em>; he always was, but ever since Percy had seen him walk down the aisle towards him he had been silently losing his shit.</p><p>And his eyes.</p><p><em>Oh</em>, his <em>eyes</em>.</p><p>“Hey there,” Michael muttered over the roar of the small crowd. His smile reached his eyes and amplified the wrinkles around them, the laugh lines carved into his face with age, and Percy had never seen anything so beautiful.</p><p>“Hello, husband,” Percy whispered back, just loud enough for Michael to hear him, and the way the brunette lit up was absolutely worth it.</p><p>“Okay okay, you can make out later, I want to throw rice onto you!” Charlie cried from where she was already standing at the end of the improvised aisle, holding a whole bucket of rice which they were undoubtfully about to get dunked upon them. Other guests were also starting to get in on the pretend ambush and the freshly wedded couple finally realized they should probably get going. Michael gave him another smile, and Percy nearly melted.</p><p>After all these years, here they were. There were very few people around them, and the only family members present were Percy’s sister and nephews, and the cake was homemade and the venue belonged to Fritz’s uncle and it was generally just a small, simple affair, but here they were, as almost life-long partners - as <em>husbands</em>.</p><p>Percy’s eyes glossed over.</p><p>“Yo, you two! Get your asses here, the cake’s waiting!”</p><p>“Shut up, they’re having a <em>moment</em>.”</p><p>“The moment won’t help the icing stay on the cake, Jeremy.”</p><p>“We should probably go,” Michael whispered, his voice cracking in the middle as he offered his hand to Percy.</p><p>“Probably,” Percy responded as he took it.</p><p>And they walked, their hands intertwined, and matching loops of silver adorning both of their ring fingers.</p><p>They walked towards an ambush of excited, supportive friends wanting cake and shade and to drown them both in rice.</p><p>They walked in the same manner as they had been doing for quite some time now.</p><p>They walked as they always had after that eventful meeting in a dirty bathroom of a dirty pizzeria with a dirty past.</p><p>They walked together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, that was that.<br/>Shit, this month had gone by quicker than I imagined it would’ve.<br/>Thank you all so much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos - I love you guys, and I really hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did.<br/>At the moment I don’t have any existing fic outlines for Mikerophone specifically. Knowing me I’ll probably return to this ship (and fandom, really) sooner or later, but right now I can’t tell when that’s going to be if at all.<br/>This was fun.<br/>This was really, really fun.<br/>Once again thank you for sticking with me, and see you on the flip side!<br/>-The author of these little monsters</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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